The (SEXII) Lady
by daretwodream
Summary: Everything that goes around comes around and so the cycle begins again. Can the Santini crew bring the 1980's into the 2020's in time to prevent the whole world from succumbing to a new invisible threat?
1. Chapter 1

AIRWOLF™ is a Trademark of and licensed to NBC Universal Television Studios © 1984. This fiction story in no way intends to infringe upon the Copyrights and Trademark held by Belisarius Productions or NBC Universal Television Studios. I just like to play with the characters.

A note from the Author:

This is the second story in my Airwolf FF series, The Lady.

You will need to read my first story, "The Lady" in order to get the most out of this one as there are a lot of story, years and miles between the original 1980's series and what I have created for the 2020's.

For hard core fans, hopefully I have done Airwolf justice by bringing the her up to date while still keeping her character authentic.

But you'll have to read to find out.

Please note that updates will be slow for this one as I am in the middle of an edit for some of my original work.

**THE (SEXII) LADY**

**Prologue  
The New Black**

Kissing Jo on the shoulder before rolling over, Branson was slightly miffed at who could be calling his private cell on a Sunday morning. He'd made a point to tell his people he didn't want to be disturbed unless it was exceptionally high priority like World War Three breaking out or some such thing.

Why didn't he turn the blasted thing off just this once?

He picked up the offending device from the nightstand and struggled to focus on it with bleary eyes from too little sleep.

"Huh," he wondered out loud, finally able to focus on the name that came up on the screen, he was suddenly very intrigued as to the nature of the call while scratching the stubble on his face.

Swiping the screen, he answered.

"Michael?" his usual greeting came out more like a question while he floundered a little in attempt to sit up against the headboard. Further sobering from his sleep he continued. "To what do I owe the pleasure - and on this early Sunday morning no less?"

The familiar hint of sarcasm he often used when exchanging dialogue with Michael Coldsmith Briggs III escaped him. There was something about the man that always brought it out in him, even though it had been eighteen months since Michael had retired and they had gone their separate ways.

It wasn't that Branson disliked Michael at all, it was more that the fellow had the innate ability to always communicate at the most inopportune moments, usually critical moments where Branson had almost been caught with his pants down – Figuratively speaking of course.

This moment was no different.

Except that he literally had been caught with his pants down and with that thought, Jo distracted him yet again as he watched her stir and turn over to face him.

Jo had heard Branson's tone of voice utter Michael's name and she was now staring at him suspiciously with her knowing brow raised in question.

Clearing his throat, Branson wiped off the suggestive smile that had snuck onto his face and his mind flicked through the series of events that led to this moment.

It certainly had been a big week of celebrations for him and the Santini crew.

Branson had some of his other business interests take up most of his time as he spearheaded the grand opening to SEXII Group's second stage of The New Black Hotel Resort in Las Vegas.

He made one of his usual impressive entrances and flying in with some of his fellow investors and senior management in the two matching pimped up black Agusta's, which incidentally, he purposely had repainted in a very similar colour scheme to that of The Lady.

That party ended up extending well into the early hours, with Branson and the others all trying to sleep it off in The New Black's penthouse before regrouping and flying back to Van Nuys, where the sleek black choppers would continue being a common sight in the skies between LA and the Las Vegas.

It was a much quieter affair at the Lair only a day earlier, but that didn't mean it was any less exciting.

On the contrary, unveiling the new and improved Airwolf was one of Branson's most pivotal moments. After all, this was a joint effort between a group of people that had undoubtably become the most important in his life and he was exceptionally proud of each and every one of them.

Likewise, Branson Richards had been warmly welcomed into their fold. The Santini's and the Hawke's where a tight, loyal group and it was an honour to be part of that. He and his precious niece, Dale just seemed to fit and fill in any gaps that the family had for all those years. Not that they replaced those who were no longer with them. String and Dom were still often and unashamedly talked about in daily conversation and arguably more-so after Airwolf was no longer the subject that shall never be mentioned.

No, Stingfellow Hawke and Dominic Santini would always be deeply ensconced in the history of this unique group of people and forever be part of their family

At the Lair, that celebration started when Le did the honours and whipped the dust cover off the refitted helicopter in a dramatic fashion.

Branson had taken the position of project manager and as with all his projects, there was almost nothing that was quite as exciting as finally seeing the spoils completed. It made him feel like he did when he was a little boy on Christmas morning.

To all who stood there looking at her, she had just as much appeal as always and was finally ready to beat the air into submission.

With the light fabric pooled around her on the floor and bathed in a column of light from the mouth of the volcano above. there was always something incredibly evocative about The Lady and she was still the most beautiful attack helicopter ever built.

Truth be known, Branson was likely just as much enamoured by her as Dom had been all those years ago.

He loved beautiful things.

Therefore, it wasn't too far of a stretch that Airwolf also became fondly known as The SEXII Lady among the Santini crew, now that Branson's coin had paid for her impressive upgrade.

Thanks to a more modern and powerful three phase diesel generator tucked away in one of the old lava shoots, there was plenty of electricity to power the Lair and any of the machinery that had been needed for the refit and ongoing general maintenance. Lighting had been improved upon and the new and up to date diagnostics computer had been added to the infrastructure.

Even though it had been a challenging feat with the Airwolf's inability to access a conventional workshop, Branson's wealth and the group's resourcefulness meant they were able to make it happen and get the job done. While many of the individual components could be prepared at the Santini Air hangar, most of the final work and all of the fitting and finishing had to be done at the Lair. It reminded Caitlin of the old days when the FIRM supplied everything that String and Dom needed to keep Airwolf turning and burning.

On a large screen, Le was about to brief the group on the revealing conclusion of Airwolf's refit with the help of an informative AutoCAD demonstration and while she would always be an ongoing project, all that The Lady needed now were the test flights to put her through her paces.

With all their collective contacts, it was incredible that they were able to acquire everything that they needed to be able to get the project together. There may or may not have been some wheeling and dealing on the black market, but sometimes things these just had to roll that way. After all it wasn't as though Airwolf was legally attained either.

Outwardly, The Lady wouldn't have looked all that different to the layperson's eye.

But to those who knew her well, she was a little longer and a lot more powerful in both horse and firepower.

About two feet was added to her frame. Her stretched fuselage was needed to accommodate the extra weapons systems and also make room for the four upgraded engines.

A new high performance four bladed rotor was fitted to create the extra lift needed for the higher maximum take-off weight, but her empty weight remained almost the same and a huge eight hundred pounds was shed when Le ripped out the old EDCC.

Without the old 80's, bulky mainframe, there was also extra room within the cabin. The Lady was fitted with an interior that could accommodate four extra passengers in comfort or some other useful payload. An additional personnel door was also added to the co-pilots side for ease of access and it meant a winch could also be utilised from a crane that could be inserted from the gantry rail built into the ceiling. It would be ideal for rescue or retrieval of goods where Airwolf was unable to land.

The cockpit and flight engineers positions also had a tidy up. The Lady now had a full glass cockpit and the EDCC was replaced by a modern console, optimally sized touch screens, display monitors and instruments that brought everything together. It surrounded a singular ergonomically designed swivel seat that could be locked into position.

When it came down to weapons, Saint John had always wondered why Airwolf primarily had forward facing firepower. According to the blueprints the rotating ADF pod was an aftermarket addition and also originally forward facing. So the crew added a rear mounted retractable 30mm auto-cannon turret that pivoted out of the hull and into combat position. It sat just where the fuselage made its upward sweep to the tail-boom and nestled neatly between the turbo exhausts.

Taking the space of where the original fuel tanks and weapons storage used to be, the new gun was controlled by either the flight engineer or a co-pilot through their own slave helmets which were activated by the handheld wireless trigger system. The helmets were integrated with the rear facing cameras, sensors and the turret could deliver fire to any angle it could reach without hitting any part of The Lady herself.

Essentially... it covered Airwolf's butt.

New, larger fuel tanks were bedded between the sponsons and over the new weapons storage chamber.

Sensors, camera's, radar, Infrared – it all got the once over and much of it was integrated into the Pilot's Call to Action Multi-visor Slave Helmet. All images that the helmet collected could be replicated on the EDCC screens when needed. Both the chopper and the helmets could only be used by those who were on the database with Iris Access.

Gone were the days where just anyone could start The Lady and make off with her in a hurry.

Le noted that The Lady's old computer had a high aptitude for learning. He was careful not to lose any information she had already collected and made sure to download all of it to the new mainframe. She was only one step away from AI and Le decided to err on the side of caution and not allow her computers the ability to think to action for themselves.

The Logic bomb that was thought to have been frozen out was still attached to her programs and Le managed to isolate it and finally free Moffett's hold over the Lady forever.

The group didn't forget to install a retractable fuel probe that now sat flush within the frame when not in use.

Finally, there was that intriguing anomaly that allowed the chopper to fly as fast as a fighter jet and the tech specialist made it his primary mission to learn a little more about The Lady's remarkable secret that Moffett had called Boom Bypass Technology.

This force field was specifically tuned to a frequency that counteracted the force of the energy that The Lady pushed against when she moved through the air. It was what produced the eerie howl that The Lady always possessed. At higher speeds, It effectively cancelled the Doppler Effect and therefore neutralised the sonic boom. It also protected Airwolf from heat caused by friction and wind forces that would normally rip off anything that typically hung off an object that was hurtling through the air at the speed of Mach one plus.

It didn't however possess any protection against incoming weapons. That sort of technology was one step too far to be able to implement and would also leave the Lady flying completely blind upon activation. Wings and Saint John both agreed that it was better to be able to see what was coming at you and where you were going and to neutralise anything incoming it with the other countermeasures that The Lady already possessed in spades.

If Lee understood the theory well enough, The Lady was only limited in her speed by the forward thrust that had been available to her at the time. With her new upgraded power plants, who knew how fast she could go?

The pressing question that Nash had, was how well she could be controlled at those sorts of speeds. Computer history told them that she became unstable when pushed hard or at higher stratospheric altitude. Both of those issues could be explained by atmospheric conditions and thrust limitations respectively.

In the end, it would be up to Wings and Saint John to test her new limits. The boys were beyond excited to give her a whirl and they were all eager to see the results for themselves.

All in all, there were hundreds of changes, but there were also some things that remained the same.

Airwolf still looked like an executive helicopter and could hide in plain sight whilst on the wing and from a reasonable distance.

She only gave away her pedigree if one looked closely. If that happened, it would almost certainly cause a stir and they'd likely be in a whole world of trouble.

And there was another pressing problem. It was all very well to start projects with a purpose in mind. Because when said project were completed, it could fulfil its use and be worth the considerable investment.

It had been more than a year since Airwolf ceased to exist as she once was. The helicopter wasn't even theirs and possession being nine tenths of the law really wasn't an excuse as much as Branson's repo business liked to bandy the expression about. Airwolf had been the property of the United States of America since her inception, but she remained a stolen acquisition since her first ever flight display. As cool as it was to have such an impressive machine, without an end game all she really amounted to, was a pretty and expensive toy.

What would they actually do with her?

"All the gear and no idea." Was the coin of phrase that Branson came up with in his quandary.

Aside from the questionable tactic of developing Airwolf's technology into his other aerospace projects, he was now at a considerable loss as to where to go from here.

Two days later, here he was. Feeling like he'd been doused with a bucket of cold water after a fabulous night in more ways the one, in bed with his beautiful Jo, who incidentally was still looking non too impressed with the unexpected intrusion waiting on the line.

He was still waiting for an answer from the man who always called at the most inopportune moment.

Archangel cleared his throat and as often happened, he didn't answer Branson's question, but instead stated. "What's this I hear about that bird being all dressed up with nowhere to go?"


	2. 1 Rotors and Roundabouts

**AIRWOLF**

**The (SEXII) Lady**

**1\. Rotors and Roundabouts**

_"What's this I hear about that bird being all dressed up with nowhere to go?" _Michael asked Branson Richards, knowing full well that it would rattle the heck out of the man he enjoyed riling up.

He could almost hear the gears grinding, causing Michael to smile to himself. He was absolutely certain that his former and somewhat puzzling adversary was at a disadvantage and slow to act, thanks to the freshly woken state he'd been caught in after a night of considerable celebrations.

After a short pause, Branson chose to divert the conversation. "You really know how to ruin a perfectly lovely morning, Michael. Do you have any idea what time it is?" He said as he drew the phone from his ear momentarily, to recheck the time for himself.

It was 0830.

"Why, Richard's of course I do, I've been up for hours! I'm just downstairs actually, having breakfast at the buffet. Compliments to the chef by the way. Care to join me?" Michael asked jovially while he rambled on, imagining the look on Branson Richard's face as he continued to tease.

"What are you doing in Vegas?" Branson asked as Jo sat up next to him. She was now also more alert and drew up the sheets to cover herself.

"Well Richards, aside from gambling and hot women," Michael said while staring at Marella who was sitting across from him at the table and giving him a devilish grin over her bowl of Yogurt and fruit. "I can't really disclose, because you know what they say, what happens in Va..."

But he didn't get finish his sentence, because Branson sat forward abruptly and said sharply, "I'll be down shortly," and hung up.

"Shit" Branson said quietly under his breath, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"Did I just hear right? Is Archangel here?" Jo asked getting up to go to the bathroom and start preparing for the day.

"Indeed you did my love," Branson said affectionately. Unable to look away, he appreciated Jo's form while she sauntered from the huge bed until he caught himself and sobered.

Needing to snap out of it, he finally got up and started to deal with the new turn of events. "I guess I'd better let the others know," Branson said with a grumble.

Fifteen minutes later, Jo and Branson walked through the lobby and towards the buffet on the ground floor. Jo still had to get used to the percentage of people who recognised her tycoon boyfriend and also the security he had with him when he was at major events.

With the delicious smells permeating through the restaurant, the pair couldn't wait to tuck in after working up a considerable appetite, but they'd have to wait. Branson had reserved one of the ground floor conference rooms and also arranged a sample of the buffet to be delivered for the impromptu meeting.

Scanning the room, he spotted Michael when the man raised his arm to gain Branson's attention.

Walking toward Michael's table, Branson and Jo watched the man take a sip from his coffee and then stand to greet the couple on their approach. Rising from the seat across from him, was a tall, stunning olive skinned woman who, even though no longer in her youth, still looked like she belonged on the catwalk.

"Marella? This is a surprise. Do you know each other?" Branson asked curiously, waving between her and Michael before he reached out to shake the tall man's hand.

"Michael," he nodded sharply before turning back to Marella, kissing her on both cheeks and catching her eye with a questioning look.

"You could say that," Marella answered her boss, "Branson, Michael is my partner."

"Is that right?" Branson asked, smiling pleasantly enough, but it didn't reach his eyes. His gut churned, but he ignored it and went on to introduce the statuesque woman to his beautiful Jo.

"Jo Santini, this is Marella Dwyer, the head of security here at The New Black."

Jo shook the woman's hand. "Pleased to meet you Marella," she said politely before nodding reservedly in greeting to the man with the eyepatch. "Michael".

"Jo" he said with a slight bow of his own, his one eye glinted a hint of mirth and Jo suddenly lost her appetite too.

Clearing his throat, Branson suggested, "Why don't we take this somewhere more private. The others will be along shortly," he said while he briefly scanned the room and confirmed the feeling that he was being watched.

He showed the way with a sweep of his hand, eyeing Jo who appeared a little like how he felt, while Michael and Marella gathered their things to follow.

There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever as they waited in the sizeable conference room. Firstly, Le arrived followed minutes later by Nash and Dale who came through the doors hand in hand. They'd been an official item now for eight months and were going strong.

The food arrived shortly after and then finally Saint John and Caitlin made their entrance.

Caitlin stopped in her tracks the moment she set eyes on the supermodel. "Marella? what are you doing here?" she asked glancing between her and Michael with a small but cautious smile.

"Wait. You two also know each other?" Branson asked, stepping toward the two women. Now he was even more perplexed.

"Well, sure we do Branson. Marella was an agent with the FIRM with Archangel." Caitlin grinned, remembering how protective Marella used to be over the Deputy Director.

"Oh wait!" Caitlin said with a gasp - ever the romantic, "Are you guys...?" she asked questioning their relationship and waving a finger between the two former agents.

But before she could finish the sentence Branson interrupted. "Marella is that true? You were a bloody agent?" Branson looked sharply between the two former FIRM operatives. "With him?" he gestured to the man.

Caitlin's smile dropped from her face and the room fell eerily silent again.

"Ah I see," Branson said, shaking his head as the penny dropped and he started pacing the floor.

"You might have retired." He nodded at Michael as he passed near him, "but you!" Branson said pointing, although not aggressively to the woman. "You're still active aren't you Marella?" he asked as he put his hands on his hips and turned to pass back. "Great!" He said in frustration.

Marella at least had the decency to look moderately guilty. She really liked Branson Richards, but she was assigned to do a job that was part of a much bigger picture. She had already managed to get information alluding to what both her and Michael had suspected all along. But it still needed confirming

Airwolf was still viable.

"I know how it looks, but it's not what you think," Marella held up her hand in an attempt to placate Branson as she watched his demeanour.

"Oh? How do you know what I'm thinking Marella?" Branson asked completely unimpressed. "I'm simply wondering why a government operative would go under cover and just happen to land a job with my hotel? Surely, you're not spying on me Marella, because I assure you that I have nothing to hide."

Michael made a noise of disbelief, "psht. Are you certain of that Richards?"

Marella grinned, Michael had well informed her that Branson Richards was very good at playing coy.

"Let's just cut to the chase, ok?" Marella was done playing games, she wanted to work with Branson and not against him. The only way that would happen is with some gentle persuasion and the truth about who she was really working for.

"Shall we?" Marella asked, gesturing for the others to serve up breakfast. Which they did somewhat ritualistically before they each sat around the table.

"So what's this all about,?" Dale asked as she spread a generous portion of cream cheese onto her bagel.

Without easing into the conversation, Marella came straight out with it after only a moment of thought. "Were pretty sure that Airwolf didn't ditch, we're also pretty sure that your good friend Bob McKearnen has been leading the AMRB on a wild goose chase. RV Dolphin is the most advanced research vessel available and she's found zip after more than eighteen months.

"What can I say? It's a deep ocean." Branson said with a shrug but didn't deny anything.

Marella gave Branson a brief and weary look but continued on unfazed. "Sure Branson. Look. We know you staged it. We just can't prove it. Yet. But we needed to get to know you some more, before we approached you about Airwolf."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Branson defaulted to the pretence that the Santini crew always took with regards to The Lady.

"And in there is the reason we're here." Marella said raising a knowing eyebrow.

"Who is _we_? What reason?" Nash asked intently, his eyes shifting between the two opponents.

"You know how to keep a secret. Some of you did that superbly for more than thirty years." She said glancing between Caitlin and Jo. "And I'll get onto who _we_ is shortly."

Nash tore a piece off Dale's cream cheese bagel and shoved it into his mouth, chewing aggressively. With Dale glaring at him for stealing her food, he wasn't at all comfortable where this conversation was heading.

"There was almost nothing to go on but gut instincts, Michael knew right from the moment that Branson called and told him Airwolf was dead in the water."

"Then why didn't he act on his gut?" Nash said after swallowing heavily. The food felt like it went down square, he probably should have chewed more thoroughly.

"What makes you think he didn't?" Marella questioned sharply with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, we're not doing time, or been blown up yet. There's a clue." Saint John said cynically. It was the truth. If the powers that be really wanted to put anyone behind bars or worse, they would have done it by now. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened within this family.

And while they may or may not have the helicopter at that given moment, it didn't take away from the fact that it had been stolen from the Government in the first place.

And not just the once.

"I think," Le said speaking for the first time realising an epiphany, "that we played right into the plan."

"What plan? Who's plan?" Jo asked coolly, scanning Michael and Marella's faces repeatedly for some sort of answer.

Marella gave a small tight lipped smile before she spoke. "Let's just say that the end game may share similar characteristics."

"The end game?" Jo asked. Realising she was starting to sound like a parrot, she wanted Marella to elaborate and the woman's replies were only generating more questions.

Thankfully Jo and the others were about to be put out of their misery and Marella did start to explain.

"I had been working in the Secret Service since 2003. After the last election I was approached by the new POTUS, Darrian Tobias off the record." Marella said as she started her explanation.

"Is that so?" Saint John said, shaking his head with a small grin. "Well I'll be." His return back to America was such a contrast to the relatively simple life he'd led in Chile and it continued to surprise him.

Marella began. "Three years ago, while on board Airforce One, I was called into The President's office whereupon he sat me down and asked me about cold case file A56-7W."

Leaning forward, Caitlin asked, "is that where all this started?" She gave Michael the stink eye who drew in his lips and agreed with a contrite nod. "Huh." She said with a huff of realisation and sat back again.

"Well almost, but not quite," Marella said, anticipating the question. "Before President Tobias was ever in the running there was a huge change within American military intelligence. Two of the largest agencies merged leaving only five corporations dominating the industry.

"The problem with that is that when the marketplace is so flooded with contracts largely being awarded to the Big Five, that those service providers become far too big to "fail"." She said making air quotes with her fingers.

"The consequence of that is that billions of dollars get wasted unnecessarily if left unregulated, while the Government banks on what they think is a sure thing.

"The problem with having all their eggs in one basket - or five baskets as the case may be - instead of spreading intelligence over a larger demographic, is that they risk inaccuracies or dare I say it major inadequacies in their intelligence that are largely ignored due to the Pentagon's perception of success."

"So, who holds them accountable?" Branson asked when Marella took a sip of water.

Marella nodded, indicating that it was a good question. "As far as intelligence goes, the ODNI oversees the operations, but there was a new player added not long before Tobias came into office."

"Let me guess, the American Military Recognisance Bureau?" Le asked.

"Yes. As the name suggests, it was formed to check in on Military intelligence in particular. Tobias had been informed of my connection when the AMRB came across files from the FIRM only days after his election win and even though he was burning the candel at both ends settling into the role of President, Tobias took a strong interest and thought it was _very cool_. His words not mine." Marella said as the corners of her lips curled up, quoting the President's often quirky vernacular.

"Since it was a conflict of interest for me, I made sure that they contracted Michael to reopen the case, since he had obviously been directly involved." Marella said recollecting the journey of events.

"But what the AMRB or Michael for that matter didn't know, was that Tobias was also interested in diversifying his intelligence into private sector. He sighted the inefficiency of the big five and it wasn't long before I was asked to investigate Project Guardian for him." Marella said looking round the room and getting the confused but interested expressions that she expected from the company in the room.

"Project Guardian?" Le asked scanning the other faces who looked just as unaware as he was.

Michael pulled out a folder from his attaché case and handed out the neatly bound files to all the people who needed to be briefed – old style. He couldn't afford any information to leak via digital means... this was still the safest way to keep things under wraps.

Once everyone had their information, Marella and Michael exchanged furtive glances, agreeing to continue with a slight nod of encouragement from Michael.

"Project Guardian is a private security company, specialising in military logistics – they do the dirty work that the US Forces wouldn't, shouldn't or couldn't do. They're like the remediators of service SNAFU's that the general populous never hear about." Michael said as the group flicked through the files.

"Of course," Marella said, "that was something that the POTUS was right onto. He abhorrer's the red tape that often gets in the way. Waiting for the green light allowed blunders that inevitably cost his country dearly.

"Whatever anyone may think of our President, since Tobias has been in office, he has very effectively read global security trends, has acted appropriately and has systematically addressed a number of crucial deficiencies that he inherited from the previous government.

"One of these steps is to recover lost ground and invest in private American companies like Project Guardian.

"With their appointment, Project Guardian became a real performer and they in turn had been further contracted to secure any top secret military protection systems that have been scrapped from the commercial market for one reason or another due to their innate volatility.

"To be classified as Volatile, a project has to have proved itself to be so superior that it can't afford to be commercially produced for fear that it falls into enemy hands." Marella said looking at Branson.

"Which is why the Airwolf File is included in the documents," she said, completely expecting the lack of reaction as the Santini crew exercised the fifth and stayed stoically silent. Just like they always did when it came to that chopper.

"Airwolf was listed as a primary weapon of interest for Project Guardian, and_ that_ is where it all started Ms O'Shannessy." Marella said, glancing at Caitlin and answering her question.

"What usually happens to these superior machines?" Branson asked out of genuine interest.

"Why, they get decommissioned of course."

"They get scrapped," Nash said at the same time, huffing in amusement while starting to see the bigger picture.

"Sounds expensive." Branson mused out loud.

"To the tune of more than fifty billion dollars since 2000," Marella said before continuing with her story.

"The last time I was called into Number One's office in the air, we had another little off the record chat." Marella pointed out as she thought back to the moment before she was given the contract option to sign up for Project Guardian:

"Mr President, that helicopter's like a cat with nine lives." Marella answered when the man asked of what she thought had really become of Airwolf the day the bird disappeared off the west coast of North America.

"And with the Santini's and Hawkes involved, anything is possible. There is one thing for certain Mr. President. If Airwolf still exists, it'll remain under a lid. Exactly where it should be." Her confidence in Airwolf's absconders was strong and true. After all, the machine had remained well hidden since her retrieval from Libya all those years ago.

President Tobias couldn't help but admire those that had apparently fled with the attack helicopter - yet again. And while he shouldn't condone their actions, from the story that he'd been told, they weren't terrible people, they were people that got things done.

His kind of people.

Once Marella signed up to work undercover for Project Guardian she was appointed under one of their local, corporate Branches in Las Vegas - Superior Security – to head Mr Richards' detail at The New Black. Her alias became Marella Dwyer and she was keen to find out if Michael's gut, or for that matter her own would turn out to be right.

While she only saw Branson Richards a handful of times, it was her job to know where he was at all times, particularly when he was on the West Coast. She, in turn would also keep an eye on the closest people in his life. Being involved with Jo Santini was only one of the reasons he spent considerable time in Van Nuys and not too far where the subject of interest was likely concealed.

"Fast forward to today. The AMRB are still convinced that Airwolf ditched, but neither Michael nor I are quite so sure of that." She said confidently, going by the evidence that had already been gathered.

Michael had been in two minds when he finally found out about Marella's new commission so soon after Airwolf disappeared into the abyss.

On the one hand Michael was furious with Marella for allegedly betraying him. But that only lasted a short while. When he was pulled out of retirement and similarly contracted, he realised that he may be getting exactly what he wanted.

They always say to be careful what you wish for.

"As you're probably aware." Michael said chiming in again. "The AMRB are concluding the search for Airwolf in ten days. After that they'll file it. For good and they'll get no more funding to recover the machine."

It was quite incredible that even with all their resources and all their connections, the AMRB failed to remember the one thing that had always remained the common denominator throughout the secret life of The Lady.

They were so one eyed about acquiring the machine that they completely forgot about the incredible loyalty of the family that created that secret life in the first place and liked the idea that they were now out of the picture so that they could get on with the recovery.

But the ARMB didn't know the Santini's and Hawke's like he or Marella did. Heck, now they were involved with Richards, with his fame and his enviable resources, it would be even harder to play cat and mouse.

They could not afford to let any cats out of the bag.

By the time Archangel had been educated yet again on how impossibly surprising Airwolf could still be more than thirty years on, he had to wonder whether the world would ever be ready for her or the Doppler Attenuation Field Technology that the chopper was rumoured to possess, because once the Genie was allowed out of the bottle, it would be really hard to put it back in.

But he shook that off when the ideal solution seemed to turn up at just the right time. What goes around comes around and this was the perfect opportunity to get Airwolf off blocks and into the air with a purpose.

Albeit in the same position it always seemed to find itself in - which was not necessarily a bad thing in Michael's book.

"Once the search is called off, Project Guardian will take over." He said, leaving the words to hang in the air.

"Good luck with that." Le said, pushing his plate away from him.

Michael rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his white moustache. He and Marella anticipated the group's reluctance to share anything when it came to Airwolf. So rather than try to pry anything out of them, Marella placed a single large envelope onto the centre of the wide conference table and pushed it so that it slid down the shiny surface a few feet.

"What's that?" Branson said, nodding to the offensive article with a wary eye.

Marella hummed with a measure of humour "That." She said with a short tone, "is a job application of sorts."

"For?" Branson asked, already tiered of the lack of direct conversation, although he supposed that he really should be used to it when Michael was involved... _perhaps it's an agent thing, _he thought to himself, because Marella seemed to also take a detour instead of the most direct route between two points.

"Let's just say that those documents will alleviate any concerns that you may have with what to do with your new toy Branson." Marella said, making the suggestion to what everyone had to have been wondering about at some point since Airwolf's return.

It was all very well to be keeping Airwolf under wraps as part of a private collection that no one would ever see and only pull her out of mothballs every so often to give her a workout. But to what end?

He felt his stomach drop, he wasn't comfortable with this at all and he was certain that the charade coming to an end. He reached out and carefully put a hand on the envelope and slid it toward him, until it was right under his nose.

Both agents looked to each other with mildly triumphant smiles, "No need to give us an answer right away Richards." Michael said with a hint of smugness. "Read the documents and get back to us." He said with a nod towards the package.

The group stared back at the agents in silence, all in various states of ridged unease.

Marella took a sharp breath, "But don't take too long. You have ten days and after that The President will give the order for Project Guardian to do everything in their power to find the proof that you have stolen military property and throw the book at all of you." She said looking each member of the group in the eye in turn.

"Mark my words. The Government will take back what is rightfully theirs if you choose to ignore the deal." Marella said bluntly.

She - like her President and also Michael - had a modicum of appreciation for the tenacity that these people had shown. But the fact was, they were all felons and ironically, it was the group's successive actions that led to Tobias's and Project Guardian's unprecedented agreement which was the only thing keeping them from serving time.

"Which isn't really the most ideal outcome." Michael said cryptically before the pair of agents stood from the table. Michael asked for all the files they'd handed out earlier and both he and Marella left the group with the elephant in the room, contained within the yellow envelope.


	3. 2 A Blessing and a Curse

**3\. A Blessing and a Curse**

The conference room door clicked shut with seven pairs of eyes boring into the ornate cherrywood after the two Project Guardian agents had left the room.

Following a long silence and a deep sigh, Branson finally spoke. "I better get some new security and have a little chat with my General Manager about just who we let in to protect this place," he said, grumbling in a sarcastic tone.

Not wasting any time, he picked up his cell and dialled his GM.

"What are we gonna do?" Caitlin asked, understandably worried.

"Darl'n." Saint John said gently, "I'm thinking we'll be taking a long look at that what's in that package and then once we get back home, I reckon The Lady will get some flight hours on the clock, " he said as he tore his gaze from the exit and fixed it to the envelope still sitting idle in front of Branson as he talked to his staff.

Nash felt his excitement build as those words registered. Apart from dating Dale, the chance to fly The Lady had been foremost in his mind since he'd laid eyes on her.

Dale too felt a pang of anticipation in the room and was eager to find out what was in that envelope.

Le was stuck on his earlier comment about playing into the hands of their two visitors and whoever they were working for. It was almost as much a roll of the dice as it was a grand plan from any one organisation, with the many factors at play and to have come to this point, he was almost champing at the bit in anticipation to what next chapter would reveal.

So long as it wasn't a long incarceration, he was willing to read the rest of the book.

A book that was at that moment being handed out to everyone in the room. Again neatly bound just like the brief had been earlier.

"This had better be worth it!" Jo said with a grumble. Jo had always been the most reluctant to get involved with The Lady again and she sure hoped that it wasn't all about to come and bite them all in the ass.

"C'mon Ma, don't be such a Debbie Downer," Nash said, giving Jo a light ribbing. "It's a great time to be alive!." He said looking up from the paperwork that sat in front of him.

"I'm getting too old for this, Wings," Jo said with a shake of her head.

"You're just perfect sweetheart," Branson said endearingly, touching her thigh under the table.

Jo simply glared at him with a raised and sculpted eyebrow. None too impressed while he grinned at her in the way he always did, hoping it would improve her mood.

She couldn't help her smile, all the while shaking her head at him.

They all spent some time going over the documents to see what they might be signing their life away to.

What they found was as much as they could have hoped under the circumstances.

Keeping Airwolf was always going to prove problematic and to the US Government, she had always been both a blessing and a curse.

As it was, Airwolf was assumed to have finally succumbed to her fate along with any and all ability to recreate her. If that's what The AMRB thought, then it was hopeful that any opposing intelligence thought it too.

What Branson, the Sanitini's and the Hawkes had inevitably done was given Airwolf a new life as the one-off top-secret weapon she'd always been. She could never be one of those specialised projects that would either be stuffed into a museum for people to wonder what if, or scrapped into oblivion like so many projects and leaving no one the wiser.

According to the contract in front of them, Project Guardian would be similar to the FIRM in as much as they would contract the use of Airwolf for Special Operations. And like the FIRM, they would essentially sponsor Airwolf as far as weapons, ammunition, external support and intelligence.

Where is differed was that all running costs and maintenance fell onto The Lady's current custodians, because they had the means and the ability to do so and it kept everything off the books from American Defence. But that didn't mean that the team would be forced to be altruistic either. There would be compensation on the missions to be negotiated on.

This was referred to as a sign of good will, insofar as it provided an impressive incentive that took away from what was essentially an ultimatum of sorts for the whole group. Just like Dom and String, it would remain to be seen just how willing each of the team members were to become what could be described as Mercenary's.

Nash huffed out a laugh and shook his head as he read between the lines. This caught the attention of the others and he felt all their eyes focus on him.

"What's so funny," Dale finally asked after a few moments of silence.

"Looking at the list of weapons, I'm wondering how they talked Raytheon into helping them out." He said when scanning the document before glancing up to assess what reactions he'd get.

The other's all looked a little blank. All except Branson, who was wondering the exact same thing. He'd once been a major share holder in Corporate Jets Inc. and made a huge profit when Raytheon acquired the business in '97 which helped fund his own aerospace division in SEXII group.

"Indeed" he said with a wry grin, "I think we need to gauge the extent of their part in this, especially since they sold all their aviation interests back in '07." He said flicking through the paperwork for a moment.

"Hold on," he stopped, his eyebrows furrowed as he focussed on a passage within Part 87b. "What the?" he flicked to a previous page and then back again. "Jo what do you make of this?" he asked before verbalising the items out loud to the rest of the group.

A minute later Jo sat a little stunned. "They want you to set up secret development division within SEXII Group. Just for Raytheon?"

"Looks that way."

"What could they want with that?" Caitlin asked.

"I think they want to develop Moffet's BBT for other projects," Le said, "and they want you to do it off the record, because let's face it, all of this appears off the record. Like I said before, I think we've played right into a plan all along."

All eyes turned to Le. He shrugged, "I don't think Airwolf was ever destined to be mass produced this time around. The AMRB were after whatever secret technology she carried that stopped her tearing apart over two hundred knots."

The Lady was like potato chips, in certain hands there was no way that they could stop at just one, so there was no point in any part of the defence force getting their hands on her. That ship had sailed long ago, it was far safer to let the likes of Boeing, McDonell Douglas, Grumman and other popular research and development companies continue to dabble with the current crop of compound helicopters and try and make inroads into that speed barrier with their VSTOL technology.

Le continued. "There's nothing that even comes close. Except for Airwolf. We knew this, The AMRB knew this, the Russians knew this. Who knows if anyone else knew this. You get the picture

"But with the project supposedly sunk, everything has now ground to a halt. Except for those left who know otherwise. The applications for Airwolf's technology is phenomenal and not just for helicopters. Imagine the scope for hypersonic air travel, space travel, heck who knows if it could be applied to ocean going vessels or even underwater on subs?"

The enormity of Le's words hung in the air.

Branson rubbed his hands over his face and let out a frustrated groan. "I don't know about anyone else, but I think we need to get back to Van Nuys and take our time looking over things there."

Late that evening back at Jo's place, everyone had ample opportunity to pour over the documents. They'd had dinner and were now all sprawled comfortably around Jo's lounge room with a drink in hand.

One thing became glaringly obvious to everyone. Project Guardian wanted all the benefits of having Airwolf without the notoriety it would inevitably receive within a government contracted department. Being part of Branson's consortium meant it would keep the contract off their books they would make sure that never the twain shall meet.

"So. Correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't this whole idea seem a little too much like a Thunderbirds scenario?" Dale asked of one of her favourite childhood series thanks to her Uncle Bran.

The reactions of the others were swift and varied.

Nash let out a bellowing laugh. Although he did recollect the series, he better remembered that awful parody Team America from his teen years.

Letting out a surprised huff, Saint John was impressed with Dale's comparison of the old 60's British science fiction series, "Golly, Dale darli'n, I remember Thunderbirds from when I was a kid."

Branson also saw the similarity, "FAB Dale." He said with a grin of nostalgia, "I think you've nailed it. Except this time the missions have enough firepower to blow up a small city."

Truth be known, much of his inspiration came from this fantastical concept and led him to the business that was now SEXII Group. All of those impossible missions with impossible machines... and here they were with Airwolf. One of the most impossible machines ever created and with the ability to share her technology to make other impossible machines too.

"Lordy! Now we've been reduced to a darn puppet show!" Caitlin said with a cringe, remembering how the marionets kind of creeped her out.

Jo didn't really relate, she knew of the TV show, but never really paid too much attention to it.

"Well, you're almost right there, sugar." Saint John said agreeing with Caitlin. "We're certainly puppets of some kind."

"And it'll be the greatest show on earth!" Nash said excitedly. "Thunderbirds are go!" he exclaimed and even from his seat, he managed the floaty marionet action that the puppet characters were renowned for and giving everyone a giggle despite themselves.

Jo looked at him in disbelief and with her mouth agape, quickly snapping it shut, "I fail to see the humour in that Wings," she said without mirth.

"Oh Ma, we're all puppets in this world, it's not just us. While we might be somewhat obliged to serve the master, it's no different to any other employer. Difference is, we're their last resort. That means they can only point us in the general direction they want us to go in. But we," he said with a pause gesturing to himself and the rest of the group, "get to be in charge of how we conduct ourselves once let out the gate.

"It's exactly how Dom and String ran things. The difference this time is that we're even more undercover than before because everything is so much more advanced. And it says here," Nash tapped at his paper, "that there will be renumeration up for negotiation, so it's not as if we'd be doing it for nothing, they now how much it's worth.

"Hell, they want you to start a whole new division for them Branson and let's face it, they have just as much to lose." he said lifting his contract with a light shake in Branson's direction.

"You do have a point Wings," Branson conceded. "What Tobias and Project Guardian are up to is highly contentious, if word got out..." he said, shaking his head and leaving the sentence unfinished.

"If word got out we're all screwed!" Dale said.

"Yeah, you could be right babe," Nash said patting Dale's leg, "but I recon that we're open to amending in a few of those terms and conditions." Nash said brimming with his usual confidence.

"I'm willing to bet that they have much more to lose than we do, or they would have thrown us in the can long ago. You heard Michael, he knew Airwolf never even got her wheels wet."

Branson nodded, "Yes. I'd have to agree Wings, they're in it up to their necks and have no way to operate The Lady without being detected by the rest of Americas own intelligence."

"It's almost like they're trying to claw back any control they've lost with the event of today's technology. It's just not that easy for her to hide in plain sight anymore." Saint John said recalling his amazement of that very thing when he came back from his secret desert hideout. It took him a long while to become somewhat tech aware.

Branson sighed. "Well... however we look at it, we're into it up to our necks too, so I guess there's nothing for it but to get on with it."

The group finally wrapped things up after agreeing to see this thing through.

Over the following days there were many discussions on how to best proceed.

Branson opted to start a new company, New Alliance Technologies and made sure that it was well separated from SEXII Group. He wasn't going to risk his empire if this went down badly.

He had his legal team sort out where he could push the terms and conditions on the contract, including amending the danger money that would be split fairly to all the members within the consortium.

Raytheon would be included within the contract for weapons supply only and Branson would approach them about the other projects separately.

Sitting back casually in a dark leather chair in one of the smaller offices at the Whitehouse, President Tobias had just signed off on what he believed to be one of the most important deals he'd ever made for the protection of his country. Joining him was his beautiful wife, Melanie.

It would be a privilege to work alongside the British tycoon that he had professionally admired for the best part of twenty years.

While it may have seemed that Branson Richards had his back against the wall, in reality they were all going to be in terrible, terrible trouble if their arrangement was uncovered.

The Director of Intelligence and Secretary of Defence would take care of any conventional national security. None of their divisions could ever discover what he'd been up to.

Project Guardian would be in charge of sorting through intelligence that had fallen through the cracks or been swept under the carpet somewhere - accidentally or otherwise.

The Black Ops nature of the venture had Tobias - like his new ally - make sure to bury any evidence deep in a new company. But he had to do it in his wife's name, well away from the other interests that his children now ran while he was at the helm in the oval office.

He was confident the team that had been assembled was the right one and would be a great asset to his equally great country. Even if they would never even know it.

Tobias couldn't expect any commendation for his work. He'd be lucky that he didn't get caught and impeached. Or worse. No, this was to remain a hush hush experiment. Maybe he had an ego. Maybe he was arrogant. But he was convinced that what he was implementing was for the good of his country and the world. It was his duty.

Heck, maybe Melanie was right, maybe he was just plain nuts.

The timing could have been better and it would have been wonderful if everything had been able to commence when The AMRB was involved, but even though he would have had zero personal risk playing by the bureaucratic book, he wasn't too sure he liked the idea of waiting to mobilise the missions he felt were more urgent than having to wait for Congress or Defence to dissect the situation before coming to him to finally press the red button.

As it was, he had heard all the warnings of potential retaliation for openly putting China in its place over trade deals as of late.

He wasn't one to reward bad behaviour. Nothing came without risk and he hoped like hell that gambling on Project Guardian and the people who had the almost mythical Airwolf helicopter would pay off.

It had also been a fantastic distraction to have met with the Russian President and convince his party's opposition that he was playing footsies with the enemy even though Tobias knew it was always better the autocrat you knew than the one you didn't.

What's more, the Sino-Russian relations was at an all-time high and he wouldn't put it past either communist country to conspire together to threaten the USA.

It was inevitable.

President Tobias had placed operatives deep undercover in both countries as soon as he came into office in preparation for any unconventional attack that he may have to contend with. It was fortunate then, that nothing had transpired in all this time.

He just hoped that his luck would hold out and this improved Airwolf Helicopter could be tested before it was needed. He had practiced extreme patience and was now champing at the bit to see it in the flesh.

Ayden Chapman was the man at the helm of Project Guardian. An astute businessman and a previous high ranking FBI agent, he didn't like the way the Bureau was heading, so he started his own intelligence firm.

When President Darrian Tobias approached him, Chapman was more than happy to speak with him after hearing that the former FBI Director had finally been terminated. Ayden had always knocked heads with that SOB and he had no interest in ever having to work alongside him again.

Tobias had some radical ideas that Chapman had to admit, might just be crazy enough to work.

Now a few years later here they were. Not quite in the oval office, that wasn't really this President's style, but at the Whitehouse non the less and working on the undercover project of his career.

Later and after much discussion it was agreed that he contracts would be given highest priority and rewritten and signed ASAP.

Marella, Michael, Branson and Ayden were then escorted from the Whitehouse through one of the many secret underground entrances and went their separate ways with their instructions on how their new rolls would play out.

Marella would continue to collect intelligence for the President outside Project Guardian and compare notes with Ayden before determining if something was urgent enough to enlist New Alliance.

Michael would step back a notch and take a less active intelligence position, his skills were needed in strategy. He would also still take on the same sort of responsibility he always had as deputy director of the FIRM and would be the coordinator between Project Guardian, New Alliance Technologies and the President once a mission came up.

Branson would now need to make sure that the Santini Crew initiated Airwolf's flight testing ASAP and have New Alliance Technologies start work with Project Guardian on a seperate deal with Raytheon and the development of other potential super machines.

Branson was not prepared to take on all the risk himself and the other parties thankfully didn't object to his expert negotiation.

Only a day or so later Saint John and Caitlin assumed their positions in The Lady's cabin. Nash sat in the co-pilots seat and was instantly hooked on the adrenalin surging through him. He'd been waiting for what seemed like forever to get any sort of airtime in The Lady.

Every individual system had been tested and now was the time or it all to finally come together.

Le had done a magnificent job in the design and the crew had done an equally magnificent job on the build.

Caitlin was monitoring the systems from the EDCC and communicated with Le who was monitoring the diagnostics of each system as it came online, confirming good to go at every step.

Twenty minutes later Saint John pulled back on the collective and guided The Lady slowly and carefully as she rose from the crater floor. By the time they reached the top, he selected gear up and it was time to test Airwolf's conventional helicopter characteristics.

She was smooth and responsive to the cyclic. Balance and stability was perfect and The Lady's aerodynamic sensors didn't pick up on any unusual anomaly's until weapons were deployed as expected.

On the ground a designated low-level course had been mapped out to push the limits of Airwolf's manoeuvrability so it could be stacked up against her old data.

Once she reached her critical speed at two hundred knots, the former non-existent BBT indicators lit up and automatically activated on the rotors.

Pushing through two hundred and fifty knots, BBT came on standby for Turbo's.

But they wouldn't push that button today.

Much to everybody's disappointment.

That didn't stop Nash woohooing when Saint John produced the high velocity Hammerhead and Immelmann turns at the end of their runs only to go back to ground level and repeat the course. Nash had made these moves and many others in fighter jets, but it was a whole other level of brain space to accept them from a helicopter at this speed.

"You have the controls Wings." Saint john said, raising both his hands and testing Airwolf's flight recovery sensors.

Back at the Lair, Nash practiced his first decent into the mouth of the ancient volcano.

Branson, Jo and Dale were standing alongside Le who was furiously checking things off on his iPad.

The downwash reduced as The Lady was first throttled back to idle before ignition was cut, leaving her rotors to spin with their own momentum as the crew cracked the doors and disembarked.

"So? How was it? How does she handle?" Dale asked excitedly with a barrage of eager questions as the crew strode toward the rest of the group.

Nash ran a hand through his helmet hair and grinned from ear to ear, "That was fantastic, she corners like she's on rails, I can't wait to let her stretch her legs!" he said, his voice echoing through the cavernous space. He approached his girlfriend and gave her a side hug and a quick kiss.

"You'll get to see for yourself soon babe," he said, with a promise knowing that once the testing was complete, Dale would get her turn to crew The Lady.

Gathering around Le who was still busy tapping away at his device, Saint John asked, "Did she Shape up ok Le, she sure felt like an improved version of her old self"

"Well yes, she did pass with flying colours, if you'll pardon the expression, but I can still tweak a few things." He said, finally looking up, "There's room for improvement. Both in Airwolf and her pilot's."

"Hey!" Nash said with mock offence.

The group laughed and Branson called it a day and later that evening briefed Michael in the first day of testing.

The second day they went over the old ground before ramping it up.

"Ok. Initiate Turbo's" were the words that the three crew members had been waiting for from Le.

"Yes!" Nash said in a hiss, before he could rein it in.

"You heard the man. Turbo's Cait." Saint John said as he relayed the order to his favourite engineer.

"Rodger that. Turbo's" Caitlin repeated with a smile. "Don't forget to brace," she added with a smile of anticipation. She activated the Turbo button and they were all thrown back in their seats a second later.

The acceleration was smooth up to Mach one where Le kept abreast of Airwolf's numbers until they cruised to a comfortable Mach 1.5 at 70% thrust, where they left it for the day.

Nearing Mach two was where Airwolf used to get vibration and stability issues. This is where Le learned the most from Moffet's BBT.

Even though the rotors disengaged through the 300 knot transition, the blades didn't actually stop turning. The forward momentum of airspeed meant that they continued to turn like they did with the Rotodyne concept and still created lift. Of course without some sort of protection, the rotors would be torn off in a second when moving at higher speeds.

Airwolf was essentially a very cleverly designed magnetohydrodynamic generator, producing an electromagnetic field that shielded Airwolf, detaching and deflecting certain energy fields away from the leading edges of her surfaces by ionising the air around them. This included shockwaves from Mach speeds and the heat that was associated with that.

It was the reason that Airwolf also didn't suffer retreating blade stall over two hundred knots.

When under jet thrust, Airwolf's increasing speed triggered the ionised air to change the airflow around The Lady and it followed a more organised and streamlined shape, making her incredibly efficient.

This was the technology that the NAT hoped could be applied to those other potential projects.

Le had taken the new improved Airwolf a step further with increased power and performance improvements all around. A few aerodynamic tweaks such as strategically placed foils and high performance rotors would allow for extra grip and improved aerodynamics that the old Airwolf lacked when taken to the edge.

After taking a diagnostic reading at the end of the successful session Le said that The Lady was ready and it was time.

Time to test her new limits. If she stayed together with the G-Forces from a rapid climb, decent and deceleration that had become her signature move, she would then be ready to train her new crew and then give a demonstration to the other members of the unofficial faction.

Branson had to leave California the following afternoon to attend other business matters back in Atlanta and with everybody excited at the prospect of a positive result, they decided to go out for dinner to celebrate their success so far.

Halfway through the second course Branson's phone lit up and indicated a call from Michael.

"Michael" Branson said cheerfully, the two men would likely always be mild adversaries.

"Branson," Michael returned pleasantly enough.

Branson's jovial mood was somewhat sobered with Michael's use of his first name. That usually meant some sort of discord.

"We need to fast track Airwolf."


	4. 3 High Stakes

4.

High Stakes

"_We need to fast track Airwolf"_

"She's not ready yet Michael. We're not ready yet," Branson said rom Jo's living room and hissing into his phone to keep his voice down. He knew that being able to complete The Lady's testing and the new crew's training in relative peace was going to be too good to be true.

"Besides, we're not under contract yet, we still have five days." Branson reminded him that their obligation started after AMRB officially put their search for Airwolf to bed. There was no way they could fly Airwolf out of her desert confines any earlier.

"I'm aware of that Richards," Michael said in all seriousness. "It'll take at least that long to organise everything so you can hit the ground running."

"Wha.." Branson reeled in shock, "we need more time!

"Well you'd better hope Airwolf is up to speed. Because with what we've uncovered means we don't really have time.

"You need to get your crew together, we've got a communications room set up at the new Superior Security office in Van Nuys and from there, we'll patch you in on the latest. I'll send you the address and a code for entry into the building. You'll be screened and given further information when you get there."

Within twenty minutes, Branson and Jo had fetched the others had headed off in the two black SUV's he always had on call and arrived at the Van Nuys Industrial Precinct that sat adjacent to The Airport and was only minutes away from Santini Air.

The building was simply a standard warehouse building with a lower level front of house that had large floor to ceiling glass windows and entry doors. A large Superior Securities sign was hung above the office area and was brightly lit in the dark of the night. Next to the section of windows was a large roller door for goods and vehicle access.

The lot was surrounded by a security fence, which could be accessed via a keypad set near the gate in easy reach of the driver's window. Branson's driver, David punched in the code and the large entry gate slid open to allow the two vehicles to enter.

At the same time the roller door started to rise slowly bathing the hardstand they were occupying in light from within.

Two staff members stood waiting and ushered for the cars to be moved through and once they were all inside, the roller door closed again behind them.

Only introducing themselves as Debbie and Max, the two smartly dressed people welcomed them and took them through the huge warehouse area that held a number of cars that ranged from limousines to armoured guard trucks.

"Holy cow, Chapman got this up in a hurry," Nash said, looking around while the group weaved through the fleet and towards a security door on the far wall.

"Mr Chapman bought this as a going concern just after Ms Bouvier was appointed in Vegas, Mr Santini." Debbie said, informing but also alarming the gathering with her words.

"Of course he did," Nash said under his breath uneasily.

Just how much surveillance had their family actually been under in all this time?

That was the general thought that collectively spread through the group as they filed through the door held open by Max, who had accessed it with an iris scan.

Nash guessed that it was all relative to who was interested enough to bother.

Inside the room, the visitors were presented with security tags and had their faces and irises scanned to activate them so the they could access the covert area of the facility without general staff ever being involved.

Escorted through another door that led the crew down a sort hallway and to an elevator that was hidden behind a door that disappeared within a vertical mini shiplap feature wall . Another Iris scan by Debbie this time and they all packed into the lift before Max pressed a blank button that promptly caused the small room to move downward and into the underground.

"This subterranean bunker was part of a tunnel system left over from prohibition to connect the city centre to the airport. Tunnels were blanked off or filled in over the years to stabilise new building lots with some sections now unofficially back in use." Debbie said while descending.

The elevator doors opened after the ride came to a stop and opened out onto a landing. Nash was more than happy to see that it had been fitted out with a coffee station and a vending machine. A set of shallow steps led them down the centre of a large room with a dozen or so comfortable seats on either side, making it look like a private theatre or compact auditorium in a bomb shelter kind of way. The rounded ceiling line was inclined down a hill and the floor levelled at the bottom to make a space that was installed to look like some sort of a control room.

The end wall was filled with a large screen divided into smaller displays of CTV images of varying locations and the side walls each had a three computer stations. None of which were currently occupied.

"Impressive set up" Branson said echoing what the others were thinking as they looked around with large eyes and in relative wonderment.

"This is our new West Coast control room for Project Guardian. In a few minutes Michael will be patched in from Washington." Debbie said as she swiftly tapped at the keyboard of the nearest computer and the screes went blank for a moment configuring to a single screen and before displaying the Project Guardian Logo.

Help yourself to the refreshments on the landing." Debbie said finally before climbing the steps and leaving the room via the elevator.

Minutes later, Michael appeared on the screen, larger than life. He both thanked his guests for coming and apologised for the inconvenience while the group settled themselves into their seats with their beverages and snacks.

A moment later Michael's image was replaced with a still.

An older photo of a pretty Asian lady in her early twenties was placed up on the screen with her particulars listed in a section next to it.

"This is Dr Mei Zuan. She came to the States in '94 as a gifted student from China to study medicine at UCLA and was recruited by the CIA in '99 before returning to China after she graduated with honours.

"She became an intern at the Wuhan Institute of Virology and shortly after and reported back regarding the study she was involved in on Epidemic Haemorrhagic Fever and its possible threat as a biological weapon.

"A report from the Government Accountability Office didn't consider it to be enough of a threat for an alert to be implemented due to its inherent instability, the dangerous nature of working with the virus and constant assurances from the Chinese Communist Party that their studies were for research purposes only. They found it wouldn't likely be viable to produce it on mass, so her warning was dismissed.

"Mei has worked her way up the ladder and for the last three years, she's been the chief pathologist at the institute." Michael said, listing the milestones of the subject in question.

"So what makes this so much of an emergency that we all had to cut short our pleasant evening?" Branson asked Michael's image on the screen.

The corners of Michael's lips drew up into more of a grimace than a smile. "Yeah, sorry about that," he said truthfully. "But there's had been a development that really couldn't wait." He said before continuing.

"Two days ago, President Tobias called me when he was informed that a Doctor, an epidemiologist and a senior researcher had been detained at the institute for the last three weeks. Now that wouldn't ordinarily raise a red flag on its own, because quite frankly it's none of our business. The President likely wouldn't have brought it up at all, except that shortly after those employees were interned, President Li Chinlung also made an unscheduled appearance to the facility."

"What was the significance of his visit?" Jo asked.

"Again, maybe nothing, which is why intelligence didn't see it as a priority.

"Luckily Tobias put Marella onto it to do a little further digging and she happened to come across an encrypted file which was sent by Dr Zuan more than two months ago.

"The file was mysteriously archived with the other information that came under Dr Zuan's previous intelligence from '99. It never saw light of day and we haven't managed to trace who dumped it there.

"The file is code named, Shǔ nián and if we were to take the translation literally it means Year of the Rat." Michael said, looking up from his notes again.

"You know it _is _currently the Chinese year of the Rat," Le said, his brain immediately overthinking, leaving the others with their own realisation.

Michael nodded, "Yes, it is and the information within the file suggests that the Chinese Government ordered their offshore companies to procure medical equipment from all over the world and ship it back to the motherland."

"Don't they make enough of their own?" Nash asked, a little surprised.

"Well you'd think so, which is why the President put a watch on our supplies, a screen on all overseas exports, has purchased surplus and stored it in Government warehouses all over the country until our supplies are adequate enough for a worst case scenario.

"What are the supplies for? Are they stockpiling for a pandemic?" Le asked.

"Stockpiling? Or purposely trying to deplete other countries?" Branson asked cynically under his breath. His mind ran along the lines of Le's idea before coming up with another, far more sinister realisation. "Are you suggesting that China have manufactured the virus for release?"

Michael shook his head. "We don't know Branson, but the file did suggest that the Institute was successful in producing the vaccine for all the strains of EHF." Michael said emphatically.

"What are the implications?" asked Jo with justified concern.

"They're potentially enormous depending the reasons for making something like that in the first place." Michael said in his own worried tone.

"We can't really wait for China to make a move on what they're going to do with their discovery. They're a closed state and we know that no good ever comes from that." Michael paused for a moment, the silence building the concern and figuratively drawing the group to the edge of their seats.

"That's why we've decided to get Dr Zuan and the vaccine out of there." Michael said finally.

"You've got to be kidding us!" Branson said, with an incredulous tone. He scanned the room to check the other's reaction, who unsurprisingly also looked equally shocked.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Michael said not showing any humour. "I don't like it either, but the fact remains that we can't go in all guns blazing especially with the Roosevelt already in the South China Sea. That ship's undoubtedly under close surveillance. Besides it doesn't have the ability to dispatch a specialised taskforce that's fast enough, with the range and VTOL capabilities to be able to get the job done." He said with vehemence.

"Get the job done? Why Michael, I think our President is rubbing off on you." Saint John said, razzing the man with his usual calm demeanour. Michael gave a half shrug in answer, his white moustache twitched as he tried to suppress an emerging grin.

Saint John understood what Michael was saying with regards to the logistics for such a mission. With Wuhan being almost smack bang in the middle of mainland China, it meant that it would be extremely difficult to get to without being noticed, even if they had the time to strategise.

And time was something they appeared to have precious little of.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but Airwolf is nowhere near mission ready and for that matter, neither are any of us. We haven't even pushed The Lady past her old parameters yet, Cait and I are the only ones with mission experience that truthfully, is limited at best. We just don't have Strings ex..."

"Yeah well, you'd better find the experience." Michael said, cutting Saint John off abruptly in his frustration. "If Nash's gift is anywhere near as good as Stringfellow Hawke's and his reputation stacks up like it does on paper, you're set up streets ahead of anything that the US Government can currently deploy. The consequences could be far more dire if we wait until it's too late."

"We're not going to risk ourselves on hearsay Michael." Nash said, speaking with authority. "There's no way Defence would send out troops ill prepared, why would you expect us to?"

"Because if we don't send you ASAP, The President will be forced to bring Defence into it and the evidence we do have to be submitted through Congress and we all know how that would go." Michael said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the prospect.

"We'll not pass that bill either Michael, not on the poor evidence you have currently," Branson said, continuing to defend his position. "But I'm more than happy to work with Project Guardian, the POTUS, and Raytheon and get everyone's hours up while we wait for something more credible.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we're done here," Branson said rising from his chair and prompting the others to also make a move.

"Richards! We have a deal!" Michael said, reminding the group with what could be construed as a veiled threat.

"Yes, we do and I remember a couple of clauses in that deal... something about having us provide the suitable platform to work with and something about you engaging our services with reasonable expectations.

"Both parties are equally falling well short of those conditions, aren't they? So let's not waste any more time and instead, continue with our preparation.

"I have other business matters to attend to from tomorrow, but you know how to contact me." Branson said as the group gathered to exit the room.

"And Michael?" He said, turning before he left, "I trust that you'll cooperate with us and facilitate anything my team need in order to provide you with the best possible outcome for the mission should you get that evidence."

Michael knew Branson was right and conceded with a nod before Branson and the others signed off and the screens went blank.

"You owned him uncle Bran," Dale said later, as they stepped back out into the warehouse where their cars and security had been patiently waiting. Dale was always impressed with her uncle's masterful business conduct.

"Oh I don't know about that sweetheart, he started high and I was simply negotiating the terms." Branson said, as he held the door open for his niece.

Pilot theory and combat strategy continued over the next day or so in the time that Le tweaked Airwolf and built extra security into his diagnostics program so that he could ensure that any ground based support couldn't be interfered with. Not a moment was wasted during the downtime.

The next opportunity that Airwolf had to leave the ground, it was time to really run her through the ringer. Firstly, they'd go over old ground and then work up to her red line speed on the level, followed by the same test while climbing, in decent and during hard manoeuvres.

Traveling through Mach 2 was where the excitement started to build.

"There we are, we're just passing Concord speed." Saint John said as they pushed The Lady up to 80% thrust.

"Mach 2.2," Le counted off as The Lady blasted away, smooth as silk.

At Mach 2.4, the Lady started to slide around like she did when pushing beyond her old turbo cruise speed of Mach 1.4. She wasn't unmanagable, just a little loose - like a drift car.

At 90% thrust, they were great numbers it looked as though they'd gained approximately 700 miles per hour on the old girl at cruise with the same hourly fuel burn as she'd always had.

On they pushed, Airwolf's alarms went off as the inbuilt warning limiters were activated, but the crew didn't need alarms to tell them that they were hitting critical parameters. The lady shook and shuddered, losing her aerodynamic grip on the air. At twenty five thousand feet, they eased up and had plenty of time to recover from the rollercoaster before repeating the exercise with Nash as Pilot in Charge.

What Nash felt was what he could only describe as emotionally exhilarating. The chopper was so tight and sensitive to fly, that it was almost as if The Lady was reading his thoughts. Even though man and machine were working together, he wasn't all that sure which was in control.

He knew he too had now also fallen under her spell.

They headed back to base to check Airwolf over for any damage and for a debrief.

Once Le calculated the readings fed back from diagnostics, he answered some of the questions on The Lady's latest flying behaviour.

"The only way to get any more speed out of her now would be to change her design completely. Doing that of course, will mean losing her executive good looks. She'd require a complete back to the drawing board build, and she'd end up sticking out like a sore thumb and lets face it, a new Airwolf, could never be The Lady." Le said as he checked and rechecked the data.

Airwolf was checked over with a fine tooth comb and she'd weathered the turbulent flight with no ill effect.

The next two flights were also fairly non-eventful and they gave Dale some valuable flight time. Airwolf aced her concluding assessments and easily proved to be a far superior ship in every way. As much as that was to be expected, it didn't stop the four Pilots stepping from the helicopter with the flushed and overawed look on their faces reminiscent of a child's first rollercoaster ride while they chattered away excitedly and relived every move. Dale was just disappointed that she passed out a couple of times, but the others assured her that all she needed to do was practice her breathing an muscle control so that it became habit during G-Force manoeuvres.

There was only a day left before AMRB would be due to cancel the search for Airwolf for good. Branson had been in touch with his buddy Bob, who was already winding up operations and ready to come into port to conclude a heavy maintenance check on RV Dolphin and all her impressive gadgets.

Airwolf and her crew were ready to practice battle sequences. Something that Le had also taken care of thanks to his integrated slave helmets and their ability to be able to be programmed to be used like a simulator whilst flying live. This saved on infrastructure, weapons, made it safer for the less experienced crew and for the precious machine.

Now there were some integral decisions to be made.

The most pressing one being who would crew The Lady should they go on this mission? They would need to dedicate a first tear crew to do any training that time would permit.

That decision was made sooner than expected when the group received the call from Michael they had been both dreading and also by some twisted paradox - eagerly awaiting.

"We've finally received the smoking gun." Michael said ominously once Branson and Dale had joined their conversation from Atlanta. "One of the operatives that President Tobias consigned to China has just turned up dead.

"But not before leaking an email that Project Guardian intercepted before going any further.

"The CCP has recruited more than a hundred thousand Daigou shoppers already working in America on a project called..." Michael paused for dramatic effect. "Shǔ nián"


	5. 4 Lightning Strikes Again

**4**

**Lightning Strikes Again**

_"Sh__ǔ__ nián."_

"Why would contract shoppers be involved with this?" Caitlin asked no one in particular, while glancing around the room.

"They could be very effective at spreading a potential pandemic Caitlin." Michael said, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose.

"I don't understand, why would they risk their lives like that?" Dale, who was seated next to her uncle asked with concern.

"Maybe they have no choice Dale sweetheart." Branson said gently with compassion. "China's people are only doing what they're told."

Dale rolled her eyes a little. "Not unlike us." She said under her breath before the beautiful woman threw a challenging glare towards the screen at Michael.

"Who knows?" Michael said with a shrug, pretending he didn't witness Dales' dig. He would have to play nice to keep Branson Richards and the group as cooperative as possible. He would catch more flies with honey and his priority at this time was helping the President with the safety and the freedom of the people of America before those of other countries with agendas that sought to destroy that right.

"The Project Guardian boffins have just taken on the unenviable task of tracking each and every one of those contractors down and putting them on the watch list."

Nash huffed sceptically, announcing his misgivings. "What's a watch list ever done for us?"

"It's all we can do. We can't afford to tip anyone off. But I don't think it'll come to anything if we get in and out of China before they get the order to mobilise," Michael said easily as if it were really that easy.

"Yeah about that," Saint John said, lifting a finger to stay on point. "We still need to nominate a crew and do some simulated weapons training."

"I'll have to leave the crew in your capable hands and will run through a mission course with Le for your training, I'll be able to get access to some classified airspace to make it interesting." Michael said confidently, and followed with, "oh and The President wants to see you strut your stuff before you leave."

"The Lady doesn't have time to be a show pony, Michael." Saint John said in a short tone.

"Are you going to deny the President of the United States of America Saint John? I don't even think Stringfellow Hawke had the cajones to do that." Michael goaded. The truth was, that it was he that really couldn't deny the POTUS and if riling up one of the team was enough to allow Tobias to get his way, then so be it.

"My little brother would have told you the exact same thing Archangel and you know it!" Saint John said, stabbing a finger at the screen angrily. It took a lot to flare Saint John's temper and bringing up his brother in questionable context was one of them. Especially where Michael was concerned. "Besides, where do you think this is going to happen? We're not revealing .."

"Hold up, hold up." Le said lifting a hand and interceding Saint John's ireful rant. "Would our President be happy with a virtual show?" he said in a much less forceful tone.

Michael's long silence and pointed one-eyed glare prompted Le to continue. "Seriously, even if he were to be at the demonstration in person, he'd see nothing but the take off and the landing. I can send through what I'm following from the multiple camera angles and everyone can experience a live simulation as we proceed. How does that sound?"

Michaels lips curled up into a grin and he nodded his approval "Make it happen."

Later that afternoon, the team had chosen Airwolf's primary crew. Based on common sense it was the logical choice. Nash would be the pilot and Saint John would man the EDCC. Dale just didn't have enough training experience and both men were fit and had military experience.

Bright and early the next day the crew including Jo and Caitlin gathered at The Lair for their first training session.

"Gee, It's String and Dom all over again," Caitlin said watching the scene reminiscent from years gone by.

Nash gave his mother a thumbs up from Airwolf's cockpit before he slipped on his helmet.

"You can say that again," Jo agreed, thinking the exact same thing and feeling a lump form in her throat at the thought.

Le had installed an overlay program into Airwolf's systems that produced a random series of virtual battle scenes. Airwolf would always carry her base ammunition stock but could still train with virtual specialist armament programmed into the mock mission. It was something that he had panned from almost the start of the project that would replace live scenarios because it was the one thing they couldn't access before Michael came back into their lives.

With a two-part armament switch, it could only be activated with someone in both the cockpit and the EDCC and no ammunition would be discharged. The program could be deactivated the same way, and then live ammunition would come back online.

Even with the latest turn of events, the future development of Le's program could potentially aid military operations and save billions in live ammunition and infrastructure reproduction and still achieve the all-important combat practice from active platforms and even be integrated into multiple platforms to replicate complete battle scenes in the air and from the ground.

It was like a next generation computer game for the military where the console was instead the real deal, just minus the weapons and other mock-ups.

But for now, it would suit their purpose as a singular live practice simulator with the little time they had left to hone Airwolf's and her crew's skills.

Lifting off and out of The Lair, Nash felt a grin form on his face as he lowered his visor and as soon as they got out into clear air he called out. "Saint John, give me turbos."

Nash and Saint John had no idea how the virtual combat would unfold. They'd only received directives on the route and would be at the mercy of Le's unfolding computer program throughout the entire exercise.

Dropping altitude into a canyon, Nash called out, "engage rotors," as they coasted back down through three hundred knots. The pair should have known that they wouldn't get too much time to breath before having something thrown at them.

"We got a SAM on our tail," Saint John said as Airwolf alerted the crew of an incoming anti-aircraft missile.

"Ident." Nash said asking for type.

Airwolf's impressive weapons index revealed the MANPADS missile. "Vanguard II, dual band Passive Infrared." Saint John said simply as soon as the identification came up on the screen, keeping it short and sweet.

"Give me two Sunburst." Nash said with a level voice and Saint John hit the button, releasing a flare each from both sides of The Lady, their high temperature confusing the heatseeking missile as it followed one of the counter measures to the canyon floor below.

"Engage full armament." Nash said, calling up the ADF Pod and both wing and rear guns to be deployed.

Ahead, Airwolf's sensors picked up on four moving targets. "Four CAIC Z-10 ten miles ahead." Saint John said clearly.

"I detect a distinct flavour here Saint John," Nash said of the weaponry they were encountering.

"Would y'all like prawn crackers with that?" Saint John said, agreeing with an answer that came out like a question on approach to the four heavily armed attack helicopters, "Cause we're gonna be looking down the barrel of no less than sixty-four TY-90 air to airs"

"Stats?"

Saint John read out relevant weapon data:

Guidance: heat seeker

fuse: laser proximity, contact

Speed: Mach 2

Maximum range: 8 km

Maximum altitude: 6 km

"Sixty four missiles between them, you say?" Nash said absently while in deep thought over his options. He felt a little rusty, but the numbers made the choice for him.

"Yeah, plus 25mm chain guns, but they're neither here nor there," Saint John shrugged knowing that Airwolf could easily resist that calibre of fire.

"Well, we're not running the gauntlet," Nash said with a shake of his head. Knowing it would be fun to try, right now was not the time to be playing on this CPU like a cocky teenager, just start the game again if they were on the wrong end. Sometimes you also had to take on evasive measures to outwit an enemy. "We can't out fire them, but we can hustle and outrun them. Saint John, engage turbo's."

Saint John was more than happy to comply, he had no desire to be caught in the middle of a four on one dogfight with thirty-two pairs of eyes homed in on their tail.

Back at the Lair, Le was also happy with the progress and impressed with Nash for not getting his blood up for an impossible challenge. He had run through hundreds of dogfight scenario's and Airwolf thus far and hadn't survived any of them with so much ammunition waiting to be fired at them.

Nash pointed The Lady skywards and hit the opponents ceiling altitude before the other choppers even managed to get a visual on them, let alone release any of their missiles. The boys made easy work with evasion and were well out of range within minutes.

Levelling out at Mach .9, they cruised towards their virtual destination and kept their eyes peeled while they waited for the next obstacle to alert itself on Airwolf's radar.

But it never came. Airwolf's PIR sensors were all that alerted the crew to an inbound aircraft before they could even set their sights on it coming from over their right shoulder.

"Hold on!" Saint John yelled out in alarm.

With next to no time to make an evasive manoeuvre, they were almost run over. Two aircraft cruising at just under Mach 1 crossed over one another's path not more than ten feet apart.

Airwolf lurched as if she was hit by the wash of a jet "Shit! Did you feel that?" Nash said in surprise as both aircraft nearly collided at near supersonic speeds. "Amazing program!" he said in excitement as the adrenalin spiked through his body.

"Incredibly realistic!" Saint John said giving Le another favourable comment on his amazing work. Airwolf finally gave him a couple of possible idents. The Lady clearly had some trouble identifying the stealth aircraft but narrowed it down to the most likely, simply based on that very thing. "We just got swooped by an F35!" Saint John called out.

"Beautiful Lady, Beautiful Lady, this is The Sentinel." Michaels urgent voice called through the radio under Project Guardian's callsign.

"Sentinel, this is Beautiful Lady, we're kind of in the middle of something Michael what's up?" Nash asked.

"That was not part of the simulation, The President was called away earlier. He just contacted Marella to say that an F35 went missing about an hour ago after it lost contact with its squadron. Any attempt to contact Lt. Jim Smyth has been unsuccessful and the aircraft is on auto GCAS suggesting that he's unresponsive.

"Oh. That's... not ideal." Nash said, thinking of the 2019 incident where a disoriented Japanese pilot that lost his life in the same aircraft because it lacked one of those auto ground collision avoidance systems. It also made him thankful that Airwolf had similar automated safety installed.

"We haven't got long." Michael said, interrupting Nash's thoughts. "That aircraft was supposed to meet up with an OMEGA tanker but never showed. Now that we know what heading it's tracking." Michael paused for a moment, "Nash, it's heading straight for San Francisco."

"What are you asking me to do Michael?" knowing exactly where the conversation was heading.

"Defence hasn't got the time to scramble anything in the next ten minutes, you'll have to go after it and get a visual on the pilot and see if we have a ghost. Then report back for the order to shoot it down." Michael said in an authoritative voice leaving no doubt.

Nash's military experience kicked in and he swung The Lady around to pursue the Lightning.

Out running it wasn't that much of a problem. What was a problem, was whether they had enough time to find and catch up to it before they got to a populated area and it fell out of the sky all by itself and perhaps injuring or killing great numbers of people on the ground.

Nash hit the throttles and was off like a flash.

"Lord, please let Lieutenant Jim Smyth come to before we catch up with him." Saint John prayed quietly. The best outcome would be for the man to eject before they shot the jet out of the sky.

"Cancel Virtual Training Mode and engage thermal tracking." Nash called to Saint John as he flicked off the cockpit switch.

"Copy that." Saint John said shutting down the simulation from his end and appointing FLIR.

Flying from behind, it would be easier to find the F35's heat signature with Airwolf's Infrared sensors, than to try and spot a marble sized radar fix on the stealth aircraft before they could get an eye on it.

"Got her! Four miles ahead. Three, three zero." Saint John said only minutes later when the image came up on the screen.

"Visor one. Impose FLIR Image." Nash said, calling on his slave helmet to give him the replicated EEDC image for the first time.

Nash steered The Lady on track, washed off some speed and cancelled the FLIR image as soon as he made a visual on the F35.

Nearing the jet and then coming alongside, Nash peered into the neighbouring cockpit only find that the pilot appeared completely unconscious and sitting slumped in his harness.

Dialling in the radio frequency, Nash attempted to rouse the pilot. "Lieutenant Smyth do you copy, Sir?" Nash called numerous times but his hope dwindled when there was no response coming from the jets cockpit.

He made the call and radioed Michael with the bad news. "Michael. We've got a Ghost flight," Nash said mechanically.

Saint John had focused Airwolf's cameras to take a better look and record some footage to send back to Le for Michael's verification.

The minutes stretched on while the two men waited on word from Michael. "We're running out of space here," Saint John said, cross checking the GPS and ground topography radar with the edge of the desert only fifty or so miles away.

"Standby." Michael said, as he too, waited for authorisation while anxiously watching the drama unfold on the screens in front of him.

Nash positioned The Lady in behind the jet. His normally upbeat mood was sullied by the unpleasant task ahead while Saint John ran through the list of weapons that Airwolf still had onboard. They didn't have a full arsenal and only reloaded what Airwolf already had on board from when they brought her back from her Chilean desert hideaway. "Bring up a Sidewinder." He asked in preparation.

"Michael you heard Saint John. We need to do this ASAP, or we're gonna lose our window." Nash said, further pressing their urgency and feeling a wave of regret over his own words. He had to shake off the sentiment.

Michael was playing a waiting game of his own, he had no business making the final decision. It was all on the President and the Three Star General. Project Guardian couldn't allow Airwolf to be exposed and hoped that they didn't leave it too late or the jet would likely smash into a highly populated area.

Michael's phone rang. Without answering, he received the green light. "Yes Sir," he said and hung up.

A moment later, Nash lined up the Lightning through the target acquisition square imposed on his visor and flicked up the trigger guard.

"Freedom is never free. Rest easy Lieutenant Smyth." He said respectfully, before he squeezed his finger.

The Lady peeled off her course, the moment the boys confirmed the impact and they remained silent the rest of the way back to The Lair.

Michael had called Branson, Nash, and Le into Superior Securities for a debrief for later that day.

Sitting in the quiet control room, Debbie brought up Branson, Michael, Marella and Ayden, who each appeared on the wide screen from different parts of the country before leaving the New Alliance group to their devices. Jo and Caitlin, with their less active rolls, would be informed later with details that they had the clearance to receive.

"So, tell me Michael, how did you explain what happened today and still keep Airwolf a secret." Branson said, clearly very unhappy that they had to risk it all and clean up the Airforce's mess.

Nash startled at Branson's words and sat rigidly upright as he relived the experience all over again. It would take a while for him to process.

"Airwolf _is_ still a secret is she not Michael?" Branson asked with a hint of doubt after Michael didn't answer right away.

Michael couldn't divulge all that went on between the President that the Chief of the Airforce, he wasn't there but he did know that nothing had been compromised. "Let's just say that after the scene is cleared up, that it never happened," he answered instead.

Nash scoffed, shaking his head. There was no doubt about it. They were always so good at covering their asses.

The irony of it.

"Got something to say Nash?" Michael asked the younger man, "We just saved the Airforce from having to explain why one of their F35's managed to get away from them and kill tens of, if not more innocent civilians and at the same time, we've found ourselves an ally in the General."

"Yeah well. You weren't the one who had to pull the trigger on one of your own, so forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm." Nash said cynically.

"Look." Michael said quite seriously, "I'm not trying to trivialise what you had to do out there, but we do need to take advantage of what we gained out of it. Don't worry about Airwolf, no one knows what helped stop the catastrophe. We told them we had an experimental aircraft that we were testing. Not too much of a stretch in that airspace as you know."

"You alright there, Wings?" Saint John asked his normally extraverted counterpart.

"Just peachy," Nash answered sarcastically before the brief moved on.

Airwolf's general performance was discussed, she and her team clearly performed admirably and the crew surpassed expectation even with the training session cut short.

The next day they would head out again with new challenges. They still didn't know exactly where they were going. Just out in the desert to another pre-programmed route where they'd have to deal with multiple attacks.

Airwolf made short work of a few virtual pesky Hughes 500 gunships, destroying a virtual missile launch site with a Hippogriff, knocking out a virtual KY2000 AWACS aircraft with a new generation Peregrine, all of which Raytheon would supply them with. Saint John even got a little play time with the rear facing gun by shooting one of a couple of virtual fighter jets out of the sky after quite a challenging dogfight and then Nash finally knocked out the second one out with another Sidewinder.

While they would never be able to have all the Raytheon weapons on board at the same time, it was also unlikely that there would ever be the multiple and varied intercepts that they had to contend with on their training missions. It was proving a valuable training tool to keep the crew under maximum pressure throughout their airtime.

The following day it was wheels up for the last time in training. Nash and Saint John received the coordinates for a restricted area within the controlled airspace they had already flown in for a field exercise.

Airwolf was always most vulnerable when on the ground, so the crew assumed they would be practicing some sort of rescue operation in preparation for their mission to China.

They had both served in the Armed forces and were weapons experts. For hits and giggles, the whole Santini crew often frequented the range and also practiced combat by taking Airsoft a little too seriously to keep their eye in and their heads in the game.

Le had purposely left sending through the final data through till the last moment. They didn't have the luxury of time to put into the finer details so for the purpose of the exercise he agreed with Michael that to force them to think on their feet would hone their skills far quicker than a more thought out plan with much less risk than conventional Defence training thanks to the program.

Arriving near their final destination and after a few more artificially generated skirmishes to get them in the mood, Airwolf alerted the crew to their pin called Devils Anvil as they approached it only a few miles out. The alert in turn, signalled Le's program to send through the demographics of the area.

Finally being able to identify their surroundings in more detail, they stayed downwind of their destination and Saint John set about finding somewhere to land that would lessen the chances of being found out before they even set foot on any soil.

With the final coordinates, Nash flew The Lady to a small, level area over the ridge and not too far from their target.

Setting down gently, shutting down and keeping Airwolf on standby mode, Nash and Saint John memorised the information and armed themselves for what may lay ahead.

After tracking over the ridge, they came upon a derelict, old style radio dish and a bent over steel framed tower. Below them a building nestled into the craggy wall, the expansive rooftop deck was surrounded by a rusty handrail and to one side, there was access to the building beneath.

Threading their way cautiously through the jagged rocks and boulders, they made their way down the face of the gorge and quietly dropped onto the concrete deck.

It was clear that with its grey, weathered appearance and thick drifts of sand that lay strewn across the surface meant the facility hadn't been used in many years.

Saint John peered warily over the edge, while Nash covered him. There was no one below on ground level, revealing more of how nature was reclaiming the area with sand piled up against the walls, the occasional low scrub growing from the barren ground and a few tumbleweeds lightly blowing around the vast expanse of the gorge floor.

The surrounding structure revealed that it looked as though it had been well used for previous target practice, but they didn't really have time to take it all in when they heard a noise coming from within the building.

Placing a finger over his lips, Saint John pointed to the partially collapsed roof top entrance. The men made their way there and with the door already taken off its hinges, they didn't have to wrestle it to gain access.

Down the stairs and along the hallway, they tactically cleared the rooms along the way until hearing gunshots from just ahead.

There were people here and they were armed. Unable to speak, the men communicated through gestures and remained focussed if not a lot more anxious then they had been only minutes earlier.

The noise took them down the hall some more. As they sidestepped with their backs against the wall, Nash peeked around the corner to see a man in combat uniform blocking the direct sight of two other people who were seated in front of him.

Nash snatched himself back into the hallway and indicated two potential hostages and one armed man to Saint John.

But it was too late. A second later both men felt presence with them in the hallway, they were asked to drop their weapons, their guns were kicked away before being frisked and then escorted into the large room.

Michael and Marella sat quietly on their chairs with somewhat smug looks on their faces. The third man stood at ease and was standing alongside them with his weapon pointed to the ground.

Saint John saw a humorous side to being fooled, but Nash thought he should have known better and felt like one.

"Don't feel too bad gentlemen." Marella said rising from her chair, "Nash, Saint John. Allow me to introduce Delta Force operators, Nick, Sam and Will."

The men shook hands in turn, the two named Sam and Will - if that were indeed their names - handed Nash and Saint John back their weapons.

Nick, the team leader and the oldest of the three, made a surprisingly sincere apology "Hope there's no hard feelings?"

"Nope," Saint John said shaking his head. "I was kind'a wondering how we were going to fly into a congested city and break into a Level 4 bio lab, find our target and get out again without being detected , so I'm sort'a glad to have met you boys. It's an honour."

"No Sir, the honour's all mine, you served in Nam, that's good enough for me," Nick said not divulging that his father was one of the thousands that didn't come back.

"Ah, I see," Saint John nodded realising that these three men likely knew everything about them.

"So, what was the point to all this?" Nash asked, opening his hands to the space around them and was not quite so willing to forgive.

"Nash. You didn't think we'd let just the two of you run a complete mission in this day and age did you? That might have been acceptable in the eighties, but we're dealing with a different world now and need a much more specialised team this time around. It would be suicide without backup." Michael said, further drawing them into the scale of what lay ahead.

While Saint John and his new BFF was still chit chatting, Nash continued to take in his surroundings in more detail. The room gave panoramic views of the desolate landscape outside. Views not only through where the windows once were, because every one of them had been shot out, but also through the gaping holes that had been blown through the thick concrete walls.

Debris still littered the floor. Old computer keyboards and monitors, desks and office chairs upended. Almost everything had been left as it fell, plus the thick layer of dirt and dust that had been added to it over the years.

"What is this place?" Nash asked after taking it all in.

Rising from his chair, Michael answered. "This is where it all started. Or finished," he shrugged, "it depends on how you look at it." Leaning on his cane to turn, he looked outside.

Marella came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder, both of them remembering the day that they were both caught in the crossfire. Michael had thrown himself over her to protect her and was badly injured in the process.

"This is Airwolf's handywork, it used to be Red Star Control."


	6. 5 Alpha for Airwolf

**5**

**Alpha for Airwolf**

_"This is Airwolf's handywork, it used to be Red Star Control."_

The Airwolf crew were updated on the latest turn of events while they waited for Jo and Branson to arrive with the other chopper.

The plan to introduce the three Delta Force boys to Nash and Saint John at Red Star Control came at the eleventh hour.

Project Guardian found some worrying concerns when they finally received the intel they'd been waiting for.

They knew it would be hard to get into the Level 4 Biolab at the best of times and by securing the plans of the building, they'd be able to figure out the best strategy to do that.

Their biggest issue, was that there were no plans for the basement level of the building which would complicate things and that's exactly where Project Guardian suspected they needed to be to find Dr Zuan.

As was required by the Delta Force contract, they received any and all information that they "needed to know" according to Michael, including all background information on the Santini crew.

Just getting the five operatives to Red Star Control in a civilian helicopter was a feat in itself, seeing as the derelict facility was near the California, Nevada border and in the restricted zone not far from Nevada Test and Training Range and the place was under surveillance all the time.

And that's where the freakish turn of events with the F35 played to their advantage and minimised the risk of being discovered by the very institution that wound up helping them.

All they had to do was get Marella and Michael to Vegas and Project Guardian would take care of everything else.

Not letting Nash and Saint John in on the plan was a little to do with training and more to do with illustrating the need for Special Ops to be involved.

Le had designed The Lady to carry up to five additional passengers, or more accurately troops, making her a much more useful commodity then she was before her upgrade.

Branson dropped everything and headed to Vegas overnight to meet one of his 169's at The New Black for a departure in the early hours. He may also have made sure that his beautiful Jo would be the pilot. He missed her terribly and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible .

Michael and Marella did the same with Marella flying the couple's vintage Lear Jet to the desert city to meet the others at the hotel before they all took off for Nellis Air Force Base and tagged onto the back of the SAR Ops for the fallen F35 via the NTTR.

Peeling off the tail end of the Chinook recovery formation, it was only another twenty minutes of low flying within the twelve hundred square miles of restricted airspace before Jo and Branson dropped the others off on the old Red Star Control rooftop pad and then hid the 169 well out of the way from Airwolf's assumed incoming flight path.

The rest unfolded exactly to plan and here they were.

In that moment, a familiar whirring beat of the 169 executive helicopter could be heard incoming from above.

"Ah, that sound like our ride folks," Michael said, making move to head up to the roof top deck. "You boys make sure you get better acquainted and you two," he said to Nash and Saint John, "show our new friends a good time, before bringing them back to The New Black this evening." He continued as Marella and the others flowed him upstairs.

It would be the first time that Airwolf would use her powers of hiding in plain sight again since the good old days.

"Are you sure about that?," Saint John asked as the incoming chopper could be heard overhead.

"It was Branson's idea," Marella said, reminding the crew that from the lofty height of the rooftop and with the two similarly marked 169 livery's having been common site in the sky's over Las Vegas for more than a year, the day had finally come to start using The Lady again for the purpose she was intended.

Jo and Branson had made good use of their time alone together and weren't bored in the slightest while they waited in another part of the gorge some distance from Red Star Control.

They touched down on the helipad and smiled at each another playfully one last time, Jo slowing the rotors to idle, before the group, led by Michael appeared from the darkness of the rooftop stairwell.

Only minutes later, Jo, Branson, Michael and Marella lifted off, leaving the five men to hike back up the ridge and to where The Lady was waiting for them.

Just because the three Delta Force Operators spent more time jumping out of helo's then they did sitting in them, it didn't mean that they were ignorant and couldn't appreciate a fine rotor craft when they saw one.

It was like eyeballing your own pimped up ride built by West Coast Customs when it was revealed for the first time and you couldn't possibly have any sole if you weren't impressed by it.

Only this was so much better than anything West Coast Customs could come up with, because as she should be, The Lady was several steps up from just any old pimped up ride.

After a few low whistles and somewhat crude complements, Nash reminded them of their manners, "Now boy's, that's no way to speak in the presence of The Lady. Allow me to introduce to you, Airwolf. The most extraordinary and deadliest flying machine to have ever torn through the skies."

"That seems like a tall order to live up to, but if she flies anywhere near as good as she looks..." Sam said, leaving the sentence open ended while he ran another admiring eye over the smooth lines of the helicopter.

Nash opened the pilots side door with a hiss. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see." He said with a deliberate and mysterious air while exchanging a knowing glance with Saint John, before the handsome pilot climbed in and initiated his pre-start checks.

Saint John walked the other men around to The Lady's passenger side and operated the newly added personnel door that opened by cracking the seal and pushing it inward before sliding it rearward on its tracks.

"Just like most off door flying, the door can only be opened up to a VNE speed of one hundred knots." Saint John said casually before he gestured for the men to climb on board.

"Strap yourselves in gentlemen, it's gonna be one heck of a ride. Life jackets and barf bags are under your seats, you might want to use them in the event you have to bend over and kiss your ass goodbye. Make sure you use them, I don't want to clean up after y'all," Saint John said, with a wink, only half joking while the three men secured themselves into their harnesses.

The Lady came to life, vibrating slightly before the rotors made enough speed to smooth out the movement.

"I'm sure we can handle it." Nick said confidently, looking to his right at the other two Operators.

."I'm sure you can." Saint John said dubiously, stepping up into the cabin, closing and locking the door behind him.

He glanced at Nash at the same time as the younger man shot a wicked grin over his shoulder before sliding on his helmet and the others followed suit.

After Saint John took his position at the EEDC, it was only another minute before they were airborne.

This was going to be fun and once they flew into clear air, it was time to clear the pipes.

Which pipes? Well that was yet to be determined, but when Nash ordered: "Give me Turbo's!" The three new passengers screamed like little girls on a rollercoaster while being pinned to the backs of their chairs unexpectedly on the way to Mach two while Nash and Saint John grinned the best they could while dealing with the G- Forces.

After they got over their initial shock, Nick, Sam and Will were shown some of Airwolf's other features on their route back to Vegas and were delivered safely if not with a little too much enthusiasm for the level of training they possessed in preparedness of the unforeseen seriousness.

That was The Lady for you.

Everyone was expected to rest up and be at Superior Securities in Van Nuys the following morning by 0800 for an all day briefing. Nash and Saint John headed back to the Lair as soon as they made the drop off in the fading light of the early evening, leaving the others to rest up in the luxury of The New Black.

Jo would bring Branson and the three Delta Force boys in the 169 and both Michael and Marella would make their own way in the Lear the following morning.

Arriving through the giant roller doors at the Superior Securities building at 0800, it didn't take long to clear everyone and get escorted into the boughs of the Californian branch of Project Guardian.

Ayden Chapman joined them on the big screen at the end of the room and they got down to the business of the mission for the day.

Later, Nash and Saint John made the most of the limited time they had with their significant others and would see next them again for a short time on the RV Dolphin. It wasn't easy on anyone, but they knew that it was part of the deal going into this.

At first light two days later, The Lady rose from her Lair and sped out over the desert and then the ocean to rendezvous with a Zodiac en-route between Los Angeles and Catalina Island.

They were using the obscure exercise to test the titanium crane and winch system to board the three men who'd be accompanying Nash and Saint John over the Pacific Ocean to China and to further complicate any patterns that they might unwittingly be forming and that might be picked up within the intelligence community.

They hoped that they could always make sure that they remained the horse that had bolted.

And bolt they did.

Branson proved to continue to be integral in keeping Airwolf on the downlow with his connections, his business acumen and his copious wealth.

Rather than involve any covert military assistance and run the risk of exposure, he had already anticipated the moves that he needed to make as soon as Project Guardian had approached them weeks previously.

RV Dolphin had been off the remote Kimberly Coast of Western Australia on a private charter and Bob got word from Branson to mobilise as soon as he dropped his wealthy passengers in Darwin and stocked up on what he needed for his next big adventure with his business partner and friend.

The biggest hurdle that they faced with what was now known as Operation Alpha, was range. There was an awful lot of ocean between the States and Asia and they needed to be able to refuel in order to make it without falling into the drink.

Dolphin took ten days to wind up its charter, replenish provisions - including twenty drums of Jet A1- steam North up into the Philippine Sea and then make fuel drops at the various uninhabited islands and atolls that were strewn between Taiwan and Hawaii. The ship would wait at sea for the first refuelling stop between the popular tropical island and the American mainland.

While Le had managed to get a further five hundred miles range thanks to the more efficient turbines, they were still at least five hundred miles short of being able to reach the nearest land mass at Hawaii.

Not that Hawaii was tactically the best place to fly Airwolf into anyway. Dolphin was always going to be the better option, so she was to be the first fuel stop along their watery highway.

The Santini Crew left their company in the very capable hands of their staff under the guise of a short Hawaiian holiday a day before Airwolf departed.

Marella and Michael joined them on the commercial flight because their Lear didn't have the range either and they all boarded Dolphin's chopper and headed east again to meet with the luxury vessel in time to make their appointment with The Lady the next day.

A familiar howl could be heard as The Lady made a circuit around the Dolphin and touched down on the deck at approximately 0900.

RV Dolphin would become the floating base for all communications between Project Guardian and Airwolf. It already had an impressive array of technology on board and all Le had to do, was plug his devices into the existing tech and they'd be ready to support the mission.

The ship veered onto a west south-westerly course and Operation Alpha made sure that all their technical operations were working before they stopped for lunch and everyone would take advantage of the ship's luxury appointments and the last rest time they'd have before shit got real.

The next morning, Dolphin had made it approximately five hundred miles west by the time Airwolf finally set off. The ship would stay on course between all the fuel drop off points along the way.

The fight would take just over four hours to cover the five thousand miles plus the two fuel stops on the way to the final one, an uninhabited volcanic island nestled between Taiwan and Luzon where they would wait for nightfall before finally taking the mission into central China.

Having Nick Sam and Will on board turned out to be a great help refuelling. Taking turns trying to outdo each other on the hand pump made the turnarounds quick and efficient and they didn't take much longer than a powered set up.

Dipping low to avoid radar on approach to the tiny archipelago of islands on the pacific rim north of the Philippines, Nash landed Airwolf on a grassy knoll between two volcanic peaks where the men set up a simple camp until they were due to leave.

They ate the cold food that the chef on the Dolphin made and with the fancy coffee maker that Le thankfully, had not removed from The Lady's options. The boys could enjoy a quirky luxury courtesy of one of the deadliest machines on the planet and Nash, who as Barista, didn't make a bad pilot either.

At last light, there was a final brief and the they were on their way North, Northwest towards the Chinese mainland. Having plotted a route where they would have the least chance of being discovered, they continued to hug the ocean and followed a path up a river, over agricultural land and then they could pick up speed again over the many miles of mountainous country until they intersected the mighty Yangtze River and followed it directly into Wuhan.

Under the cover of darkness, Nash used the FLIR to navigate his way carefully over the landscape via the coordinates that Le had entered into the navigation systems. Behind a hospital and on a heavily wooded hilltop was an old concrete pad that used to be part of the local water pressurisation system before the town became a city.

The buildings and water tanks had long gone, and the trees had made an admirable attempt to reclaim the area that was now only just big enough to land a helicopter the size of The Lady.

Wasting no time, the three Delta Force Operators checked their weapons, their high-tech supplies and their earpieces before they disappeared into the night towards the Lab that, while only about a thousand feet away, they needed to cross two major highways and a densely populated neighbourhood before getting there.

Connecting to the security systems wirelessly from the outside of the building, the boy's got Le to calibrate their scrambler to the correct frequency to allow them access to all the electronic doors and interfere with surveillance systems. It was the first time that Airwolf's electromagnetic technology had been adapted for another application and it saved time so that instead of trying to override a complete system, the scanning device simply isolated the areas that the men were walking past and literally paralysed anything that was electronic, making them electronically invisible.

"We're in." Nick announced after what felt like forever.

There was no going back now.

Nash and Saint John were kept in the loop via the footage and sound that was sent from the three men via their body cameras as the men made their way firstly to the surveillance room where they made short work of incapacitating the two overnight security personnel, before further avoiding being seen and making their way through the corridors of the mostly deserted building.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Perhaps a little too smoothly.

The men had bypassed all the offices and laboratories on their way to the basement level and they finally got to the end of a corridor that was also the end of the building schematics they had earlier committed to memory.

From that point they were going in blind.

The long corridor faded from light to dark as the last light in the ceiling was passed by and they came to a little used heavy metal door at the end.

Their sensors showed that the door wasn't hooked up to anything electronic. In fact there seemed to be no electromagnetic activity beyond the point of the last light.

A little plastic explosive around the three mechanical locks and they were through the heavy security door that creaked on its hinges as they opened it.

Continuing to tactically cover one another as they proceeded, they entered into a dark underground tunnel that looked aged enough to be part of an old underground network.

Then the signal to Airwolf faded and finally stopped altogether while the team descended deeper underground.

Nash and Saint John waited.

Then they started to get worried.

"Can you hear that?" Nash asked Saint John.

They both strained to hear the faint noise that they couldn't yet place.

"There!" Nash said, finally pin-pointing it. "It's coming from outside!"

Both men stepped from the confines of Airwolf's cabin, out into the night, with their senses on edge, they drew their torches and weapons.

Their surrounds weren't quiet. The city could be heard in the background like a white noise even so late into the evening.

Hearing the noise again, it sounded like a car backfiring in the distance, the trees around them muffled the sounds somewhat.

The sporadic explosive clatters came from somewhere not far from them. It sounded almost like gunfire echoing in a cavernous space.

The two men explored their surroundings, using the intermittent sounds to guide them into a wooded area and then they came across a pair of crude looking rusty steel doors that were set into a concrete structure.

Gunfire could be heard coming from behind the doors and they had some trouble opening them. They took a few minutes looking around for something to leaver the doors open and found an old barbed wire fence nearby, they loosened and pulled out one of the star posts and with a loud creaking sound, managed to force the old hinges to yield.

Shining some light down into the darkness beyond the doors, revealed a staircase that disappeared into the abyss.

More gunshots could be heard giving some structure to what the boys already thought. Saint John was just about to take the first step inside.

Stopping the older man with hand to his chest, Nash asked. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think?" Saint John answered Nash with a question of his own.

Nash shook his head, "I don't think so Hawke, someone needs to stay topside with The Lady."

"Like hell I'm gonna let you go down there alone." Saint John retorted.

"I won't be alone. I'll have three of Delta's best down there with me." Nash said countering Saint John with a strong argument. "Get Airwolf ready to fly. " He said.

"But Nash..." Saint John said, starting to argue.

"Get Airwolf ready to fly." Nash said again, standing his ground and glaring at the man who was forty years his senior.

It was an order. Nash was pulling rank. He was in charge of this mission and if the worst were to happen, at least Saint John and The Lady had a chance of getting out of here. The very thought of that was almost too much to bear, but it was too late to back out of this now.

Saint John thought for a moment and finally acquiesced with a nod.


	7. 6 Down the Rat Hole

**6**

**Down the Rat Hole**

Saint John still had his nose out of joint that he had to stay topside while Nash involved himself with the action below. He was also uneasy about the possibility that their assumptions were wrong.

Was the gunfire even connected to the Lab? What would Nash be walking into? Would he see Nash and the others walk out again or would he be forced the get the hell off the hilltop alone?

There was one thing Saint John new for sure. If Nash thought he was going to sit there on his keister waiting quietly, the young gun had another thing coming.

Nash made his way down the long flight of uneven steps. The walls and floors were damp, and he could hear dripping water throughout the tunnel which flattened some at the bottom but continued to descend on a mild slope.

The passageway had been silent for a short period of time and Nash would be lying if he wasn't worried because it could mean one of two things.

He hoped that it was that the boys had the upper hand and were already on their way back with the doctor.

He hoped it but his gut told him otherwise.

In the distance, he finally saw a faint light and on approach he found himself behind the cover of a ventilation outlet.

Pocketing his torch, he steadied his breathing and squinted through the louvres to see what was happening on the other side.

There wasn't much to see, but there was one body down on the floor just within his field of vision and it wasn't one of his three Operators much to his relief.

A flashing strobe blinked from somewhere out of his direct line of sight.

The space beyond remained silent apart from an alarm sounding from afar and Nash decided to take a chance and remove the screen from the vent and have a better look.

He peeked hesitantly out from the opening. The place was void of any moving bodies, but there were a few sprawled out between himself and the main entrance at the other end of the wide, long hallway.

Gingerly emerging from the outlet and stepping onto the pristine white floor, his firearm was poised ready to shoot should he need it as he made his way further down the passage.

Nash noted that there were a couple of doors along the wall opposite the vent.

Stepping over the first body, Nash was impressed with the a perfectly placed kill shot between the man's eyebrows, before ducking under the observation window of the first door he passed.

Pressing on, the second body had taken a few shots to centre mass, a gun had been kicked away and now lay well out of reach against the wall.

Making his way to the top of the passage, the sliding security doors were ajar and opened up to reveal a vestibule that gave way to a contamination lock on one side and the entry doors to the other.

Laying near the entrance, another man had been shot in the back and was face down. It wasn't the first shot that his body took, because his bloodied hand had left smears of blood on the wall as he had made his way to a large emergency button which was also left bloodied.

He noticed something from the corner of his eye and whipped around catching sight of a fourth fallen figure.

Nash rushed up to the immobile body of the Delta Force Operator, his firearm still in hand, pointing at the man who had pressed the button.

Sam lay in a pool of blood that had flowed from his mouth and freely from the hole in his neck, where he'd taken the shot. His eyes were open, staring ahead lifelessly.

Nash didn't have time to pay his respects, he needed to keep his head in the game, and he wondered where the rest of the team could be.

Scanning the space around him, through the other side of the contamination lock was a long room set up like a laboratory.

It was sealed off and there didn't seem to be anyone in there.

Turning back down the hallway to the nearest door, Nash stole a quick glance into the room through the observation window in the door and saw nothing but rows upon rows of large Liquid Nitrogen cannisters that stretched out into a cavernous storage warehouse that was part of the age-old underground bunker structure.

Further down the hallway, he peeked through the pane of the last remaining door and his blood ran cold.

Trying the handle, the door was locked so he pulled a clearance tag off one of the bodies in the hallway and held it to the consol.

There was a beep, the door clicked, and Nash let himself in to better assess the area.

Another massive tunnel like bunker stretched out in front of him. A row of clear cubicles ran its entire length of the right side and were all accessed via the remaining space, creating a raceway on the left.

Nash noticed that each contained one person and whether it be in their bed, on the ground or slumped up against a wall, all were now at the very least unconscious.

With time being of the essence, there was no way to account for each and every soul.

In the nearest cubicle, the two remaining DFO's were acting very oddly. They were slumped on the floor, gasping for breath and behind them, crumpled in a heap, was the lady who appeared as lifeless as the other captives.

The cubical could have been an isolation room or it could have been a cell with imperviable clear barrier rather than bars. Either way, it was sparce and contained no comforts. There was a bed, and a simple bathroom with no privacy.

Taking a closer look, Nash noticed that the men had already tried to blast their way out of the glass room with their weapons and each and every bullet was imbedded in the thick transparent wall that had partially melted back over the rounds.

It clearly wasn't any old glass and the cubicle appeared to be completely sealed.

That left Nash with a conundrum. Even if he could gain entry, did he really want to? Were these people out of oxygen or was it something even more nefarious?

Focusing on the struggling men, Nick summoned the strength to motion the out of air signal with a slicing hand motion across his throat and gave Nash the answer he was looking for.

"Shit!. Hang in there guys!" Nash said, turning on his heel, and not having a clue if they could actually hear him but he had to move quickly, or it would be curtains for the men.

Scanning every inch of the wall, he found a locking system that had two keypads. Two codes were needed to unlock the cell and without being able to get a signal topside, there was no way Le would be able to help with his tech expertise.

Leaving the room, Nash headed back the Cryogenics room to grab one of the large Storage Flasks and some protective gear. The heavy canisters were all on casters which made them easy to move and he wheeled the container back to the other room and donned a mask, eyewear and some thick gloves. He opened the tap on the container and waited for the LN2 to run out of the hose at the other end.

Pouring it over the plastic surface, he waited for it freeze and the whole floor was blanketed in an eerie cloud. The wall made cracking sounds and warped slightly as the material contracted off the floor and broke the seal.

Turning the tap off, Nash removed the gloves and shot at the barrier, shattering it and leaving enough of a hole to climb through.

By the time he cleared away the broken material, the LN2 had already boiled off.

Entering the room, Nash picked up the unconscious woman first and carried her out. Laying her on the floor and far away from the cold.

He checked her vitals.

Her pulse was weak and her breathing shallow.

Nash rolled her into the recovery position before heading back to the cell.

Nick, who was nearest, was already looking brighter. Nash grasped him by the collar and dragged him out, sitting him upright against the wall on the other side to recover some more.

To Nash's surprise, that didn't take long and by the time Will was dragged out, Nick was talking.

"They pumped something into the room, I don't know maybe carbon dioxide," he said as he continued to regain his breath and his strength.

"Yeah maybe," Nash said before checking on the woman again, there was no change.

"Is this the Dr?" he asked.

Nick Nodded, "Yeah, we just managed to get into the cell before it the place was locked down and put on alert.

Down the hall, the strobe and alarm had continued all the while.

Nash nodded. "On that note, we need to go. She's not doing so good and I'm sure we'll have company soon." Nash said urgently

Nick was already standing and helped Will to his feet while Nash picked up the tiny Dr Zuan bridal style.

Making their way into the hall Nash felt unease overwhelm him only a moment before the main entrance burst open and a battalion of men rushed through with their guns blazing.

From the other side of the passageway, shots were also being returned, the boys taking down two of the opponents leaving a temporary opportunity for Nash to rush through.

"Go! Go! Go! We'll cover you!" Nick yelled over the racket while Nash ran leaving his trust in their hands and his back vulnerable.

Saint John let off shots that whizzed past a surprised Nash's ears as the younger man approached vent opening in the wall.

"What are you doing here?" Nash asked him, ducking for cover.

"Saving your ass," Saint John said, his tone revealing his dry humour while he exchanged a few more rounds.

"Besides. You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did ya?" He asked, giving Nash an impish grin while the gunfire continued to ring out.

Nash rolled his eyes at Saint John.

"You go up, I'll stay back to cover the fella's," Saint John said, retuning some more fire.

"We lost Sam." Nash called sadly over his shoulder.

Swearing under his breath, Saint John looked at the younger man. "We're not leaving anyone behind," he said emphatically.

Nash nodded before making his way up the ancient, narrow escape route and leaving the melee behind him.

He thought himself fortunate that the woman was so slight as he came to the intimidating flight of stairs that would take him topside.

On the way, the Doctor moaned as she started to wake up.

"Shhh it's ok Doc, we got ya, we're taking you home." Nash said gently.

Mei mumbled something that Nash couldn't understand while he continued to scale the wide treads of the gently rising stairs, his torch lighting the way up the narrow passage.

Gunfire persisted sporadically as Nash extended the distance between them and bowels of the facility deep beneath the earth.

The noises eventually subsided when he finally made it near the top of the stairs, the stale dank air giving way to the fresher but no less humid air of the wooded hilltop.

Mei mumbled again, fighting her grogginess while Nash carried her across the leaf littered woodland surface and towards the imposing dark silhouette of The Lady. He still couldn't make out what she was saying and was distracted by the sound of another helicopter in the distance.

Looking over his shoulder reflexively, he didn't see anything and pressed on until he came alongside The Lady. Jostling Mei awkwardly, he managed to slide the rear door open and as carefully as he could, he laid her across the rear seats. Applying the nasal cannulas from one of The Lady's oxygen systems, he buckled her in and covered her with a blanket.

More than one helicopter could be heard hovering over the Lab facility down the hill and on the other side of the major highway from where Airwolf was hidden. It likely wouldn't be long before the area would be crawling with troops, so Nash had initiated start sequence - all the while willing Saint John and the DFO's to hurry the heck up.

Airwolf's sensors were making their presence known and they needed to get their wheels up. Pronto.

Nash was right. Closer and closer the helicopters patrolled in ever increasing circles.

From the underground, the three men had neutralised their aggressors for the time being and collected Sam before making haste and retreating back along the antiquated tunnel towards their escape.

"Nash do you read me?" Nick repeated over and over while the group ascended the gently sloping channel.

Nearing the top Nick's earpiece crackled, finally making contact with Nash.

"Yeah, I read you." Nash said, "we have a few eggbeaters sniffing around up here, so make like a gator, we need to lift off before it gets prickly up here."

"Copy that" Nick said, both relieved that Nash was still topside and at the same time bracing himself for another challenge.

The others - also privy to the audio, hunkered down and were well aware that the tunnel might only be a short reprieve before they would likely be jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

They came to the end of the incline that gave way to the shallow set of terraced steps and then finally the much steeper steps that led to the top of the passageway. Dim light entered the pitch black even though it was still night outside.

"We got company!" Nash's voice cut in through the noise from outside.

The sound of The Lady could be heard idling in the background and choppers flew overhead as the group emerged from their cover. They instinctively ducked when a beam of light streaked across the treetops from above.

Airwolf's heat sensors picked up the three warm figures as they emerged from the tunnel carrying Sam's cooling body.

Another spotlight beam swept over the hilltop, catching a shining glint off The Lady's black paintwork in the process.

Their cover was blown and they were sitting ducks.

The situation only took seconds to escalate, the chopper zeroing in in The Lady and firing from its nose mounted gun.

A trail of shells kicked up the dirt in the small clearing homing in towards their target.

The men the ground opened fire, surprising the Chinese helicopter, sparks coming off the airframe as the bullets hit and it retreated momentarily.

From there it was a race to get The Lady in the air. Nash increased the power to the rotors and she teetered, lifting slightly, taking the weight off her undercarriage.

Mei groaned, the rocking motion within the cabin rousing her and was becoming more lucid to her surroundings.

Nick, Will and Saint John traded fire into the dark sky in the direction of the spotlight illuminating Airwolf as they picked their way as best they could to keep under the cover of the tree canopy.

Coming to the clearing, the other chopper returned for a second go with additional units not far behind. and the group had no choice but to make a run for it and amidst the crossfire, they were all lucky enough to make it to The Lady, the men unceremoniously dropping Sam in the footwell between the seats as they clambered in and slid the rear door closed behind them.

"Let's git the hell outa' here!" Saint John yelled over the chaotic noise while he climbed over Sam's prone body and to his seat at the EDCC, leaving the two other men to sort themselves out.

Will sat in the backwards facing seat next to Saint John and Nick tried his best to be gentle with Mei and after removing some of his kit, he sat where her head had been resting, his thigh now serving as her pillow.

Headsets on, there was a collective feeling of relief among the crew, but it wasn't over yet.

Nash wasted no time, lowered his visor ordered FLIR and let Airwolf rise from the forest floor. "Hang on, we're not out of the woods yet!" He said over the intercom, the pun not missed by the others.

Saint John identified what they were up against There were three CAIC Z-10's floating around the Level Four Lab and they were armed to the teeth.

Even though the Airwolf crew had hidden themselves in a wooded area, the hilltop was completely surrounded by a bustling city that never sleeps, full of tall buildings – many of them apartments, so Nash hoped that they wouldn't have to pull out the heavy artillery

Surely, setting off air to airs in that environment wouldn't be something even the PLA wouldn't stoop to would they?

Mei had opened her eyes and said something that Nick couldn't make out over the noise of incoming fire as it pinged off The Lady's shell.

Nash's plan was to fly clear with minimum fuss and turbo the hell outa dodge. But that didn't mean he wouldn't defend himself or his crew if he needed to.

And it looked like he was going to need to.

They had left their exit too late and they were now surrounded by the three heavily armed Z-10's who all had their spotlights on them and threatened to hold them below the tree line and unable to fire any of their own weapons to any effect.

"They've got us boxed Wings." Saint John said with concern.

"Yeah," Nash agreed, thinking how he could get out of the predicament as he turned under his blades to assess his surroundings more closely.

"What-say we burn the box down?" Nash asked himself, not really expecting an answer from the others, "Shield your eyes folks and give me flares Saint John."

Saint John cottoned onto the idea and dropped his visor before pressing the button to release the flares from either side of The Lady's fuselage.

The area around them lit the night like a flash from a welder's arc as the flares were sprayed out into the surrounding greenery.

Not expecting The Lady to have any sort of defensive countermeasures, the three choppers above veered off, it wouldn't have been a smart move to try any low-level manoeuvres if the pilots were momentarily flash blinded.

Nash wasn't about to stick around and used the opportunity to get out of the restricted space as the heavy fuel load on the ground and in the trees ignited around them.

"Combat mode Saint John and watch our six." Nash ordered before they'd even cleared the tops of the trees.

"Rodger that," Saint John said. He didn't have to be asked twice, his fingers had already been poised and ready to deploy the guns and the ADF pod in anticipation.

Saint John rolled out the rear gun and by the time they reached some decent air the other choppers were on their tail.

Nash traded a few shots as they continued to rise above the city, showing the Z-10's that the intruding black helicopter was well armed.

Mei was starting to feel stronger now and the helicopter ride was feeling like a rollercoaster.

"You must destroy the facility," she said to Nick for a second time, but still too softly for him to hear her.

"Shhh, save your strength Doc," Nick said awkwardly. Soothing ailing passengers was not his strong point.

"No!" Mei said in frustration while she struggled to sit up. "You must destroy the facility!"

Nick heard her this time, "Our priority is to get you out of here Doctor." He said to her pressing on her shoulder, encouraging her to stay in position.

"No!" she said pushing weakly at his arm. "Your priority is to stop the Biohazard from getting out and destroying the world!"

Nick was paying attention now and thought for a moment, Airwolf made a sudden move, jostling everyone to the right.

"Doc says we have to nuke the containment." Nick said through the intercom.

Airwolf was speeding away from the facility. The Z-10's had regrouped and were in hot pursuit. Nash had been about to order turbo's, but Mei's information made him hesitate.

She sat up and her breath hitched when she laid eyes on Sam.

She recovered quickly, the nasal cannulas were annoying her, so she took them off and replaced them with a headset that Nick handed to her.

She positioned the mic and took a breath. "There is a hundred thousand tons of VHFs21 ready to be shipped out at a moment's notice. We can't afford to leave it!" She said, more confidently now.

"Where's the store?" Nick asked the secret agent before Airwolf interrupted by sounding an alarm.

"Nash, they've got a lock on us!" Saint John called out.

"Engage jammers and release chaff." Nash countered seconds before another alarm sounded indicting that a missile had been fired.

Nash made an evasive move leaving the chaff to confuse the radar guided missile and it exploded well away from its intended target.

Saint John had a fix behind them on one of the attack craft and couldn't help but feel the jolt of excitement as his finger rested over the trigger on the rotating gun for the first time on a live target.

The Z10 was effectively armoured. Especially from the front, so Saint John's best bet was to target the rotor hub.

Squeezing the trigger, the highspeed humming of the rear autocannon dispatched a cavalcade of rounds to the top half of the hapless aircraft and the whole rotor sheared from the top of the chopper, the two segments each spiralling to the ground behind them.

The sky lit up momentarily with the explosion below.

Mei had been white knuckling the edge of her seat, supressing a girly scream before announcing that it was of the greatest importance that they must destroy the biological weapon that was stored in another facility only twenty or so miles south near the Yangtze River in a rural industrial area.

"So, what's been stored in the warehouse under this Lab?" Nick asked the petite lady as Airwolf again jerked them to the side, delaying her answer when Nash made another evasive manoeuvre away from the two remaining gunships on their tail.

"Give me turbo's!" Nash called out milli seconds before they shot away, leaving their assailants to wallow in their jet wash.

Mei gave Saint John the location and he punched the information into Airwolf's computers.

On the way, Mie answered Nick's question. The Lab where she had been held, stored the vaccine that she'd been working on. She also gave further information that there was a large block of flats filled with facility staff and students, built over another immense underground basement bunker where the pathogen was stored.

Only minutes later they were hovering over what looked like an industrial area that was surrounded by terraced farmland and wooded hillsides.

"We're not carrying anything that can penetrate a bunker," Nash said as they approached the facility and deactivated turbos, before slowing down to rotor speed.

Scanning the area with FLIR to get familiar with the layout he asked Saint John to bring up the image on one of Airwolf's screens for the benefit of those in the back. The older man also brought up a topography scan of the landscape for more detail

"The facility has an Achilles heel," Mei informed, leaning forward and squinting to see the screen more closely.

"There's an incinerator chimney right alongside the western side of the buildings. If you could just drop something down there..." she said, pointing to the tall, narrow stack.

Nash interrupted, "We don't have bombs on board," he said dismissively, "we're gonna have to do better than that."

The Lady's alarms sounded, "Incoming, a pair of bogies heading in from zero eight zero, thirty miles." Saint John called out, spotting the two blips on the radar.

"Just the tip of the ice burg," Nash said knowingly. It wouldn't be long before they'd likely be surrounded by some of China's extensive military and then Nash would have to make a choice whether to fight or to flee, leaving the biological weapon intact and opening up the huge can of worms they'd been sent here to keep a lid on.


	8. 7 Sting Like a Bee Land Like a Butterfly

**7**

**Sting like a Bee. Land like a Butterfly.**

"The way I see it, is only difference between a bomb and a missile is that one is propelled and the other is not." Will said, interrupting the pregnant silence that fell over the crew and leaving only the sound of Airwolf's cabin noise.

Minutes later everyone rallied. They removed the access panel to the armament store that sat low and behind the cabin bulkhead.

Will was a specialist bomb technician and had carefully disconnected three hellfire warheads from their fuel and rocket body. No toolbox was complete without duct or high-speed tape and a crude bomb was wrapped and spliced together in very little time.

Weighing about sixty pounds, it took two men to manoeuvre it around Sam's body and to Airwolf's sliding rear door.

Having identified the two incoming jets, Saint John announced. "Two J20's ten miles and closing," his tone was earnest.

They had to move quickly and had been hovering quietly out of the way over secluded farmland while they got the makeshift bomb together.

Now they really were cutting it fine as Nash approached the tall, narrow smoke stack cautiously.

Nick and Will were positioned awkwardly and had secured themselves with the winching harnesses to keep them from falling to their deaths.

Inching towards the top of the stack, it was noted that it wasn't in use, Mei informed everyone that it was only used a couple of times a week and remained on a pilot flame the rest of the time.

That was fortunate indeed, but they were working against the clock and the longer they stayed hovering at the facility, the more likely they would be compromised.

Lights had already started to come on within the accommodations that were built over their target and Saint John had updated the status of incoming Aircraft, the numbers now having increased to fifteen and the original idents closing in at five miles.

Meanwhile, on the RV Dolphin, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, the rest of the crew were powerless to do anything but monitor the whereabouts of Airwolf's movements. In radio silence, it was only The Lady's systems that told them she was still wheels up via the pings she left through the INMARSAT satellite.

The unscheduled delay not far south of Wuhan had them all worried.

After pinpointing the ping to the location, Le announced that there was another Research Centre at that pin and the group surmised that the Airwolf crew were tidying up something that was unforeseen.

Project Guardian had picked up on the new flight movement bearing down on the location through the two American carriers that had pricked up their ears while patrolling the South China Sea and had subsequently been put on alert.

Michael and Marella had in turn notified the crew and everyone sat on tender hooks watching the blips and graphs on the multiple screens that Le had set up in the communications room on the superyacht.

"One mile and closing!" Saint John announced urgently as the first of a larger squadron of Chinese fighter jets closed in.

Nash and Nic had been coordinating their position over the stack, "Now!" Nick said loudly to Will and they both let go of their deadly incendiary.

"Go!" Nick said to their pilot. Will reeled out of the way while Nick made sure of their mark, watching the makeshift bomb disappear into the mouth of the chimney. He quickly scrambled back into the cabin, slamming the door shut with a bang, before flinging himself into his seat and harnessing up as quickly as he could.

Nash had already pitched The Lady forward and was rapidly picking up both speed and a little more altitude. He wasn't about to stick around to oversee their dirty work and called for turbo's, disappearing into the night, below effective radar and in stealth mode.

It wasn't until they had put more than thirty miles between the incoming fighters and themselves that Nash let out a breath of relief.

Saint John was intently monitoring their surrounds and by the look of the behaviour of the blips on his radar, Airwolf had managed to appear to vanish into thin air with all but the first two jets retreating from whence they came and leaving them to flounder about in their search of the mystery helicopter that had taken them by complete surprise and confounded them.

All eyes were peeled on the screens back in the comms room on the RV Dolphin.

The pings Airwolf made were coming in intervals through the satellite and Le was kept busy isolating her unique signal from the thousands of others to try and keep tabs on her as he worked impatiently.

The last ping had The Lady south west of Wuhan and halfway to the coast, so the signs were on their favour but as always, nothing good would come from becoming complacent and everyone remained on edge.

Michael startled when his cell interrupted his intense introspective thoughts. Looking at the screen, he saw it was Ayden Chapman. Sighing, his gut plummeted, telling him it probably wasn't great news.

Discreetly excusing himself from the Comms Room and acutely aware of the multiple sets of eyes that followed him he walked out of the room and into a hallway.

Michael braced himself before finally answering.

"Yeah, it's Michael. What's up?" he asked Ayden.

"The President has just informed me that the CCP has threatened US interests if we don't surrender the doctor immediately." Ayden said in deadly serious tone.

"They know it was us?" Michael asked suspiciously.

"Well, they may have suspected all along. Looks like one of Dr Zuan's co-workers got quite close to her. He could have been an operative." Ayden said flatly.

"Yet they didn't end her when they found out?" Michael asked with an element of disbelief.

"No, seems she was too valuable to them and they were either very good at hiding that they knew, or even better at... persuasion." Ayden said, revealing the frightening possibilities.

"Well. I suppose that's not entirely a surprise is it?" Michael asked, scrubbing a hand over his face, naturally being careful of his glasses and his missing eye.

Picturing the scenario's in his head, he wouldn't put anything past the CCP, especially with what they were currently doing with the Uighurs in prison camps. "Do we know what they're targeting?"

"No, but we've been given till 1200 Beijing time to hand the Dr over." Ayden answered.

"We don't even know where Airwolf is at this point, we still don't have radio contact." Michael argued uselessly.

"Yeah well, it's a moot point at this stage , but if the CCP makes good with its threat, you can pretty much guarantee war is imminent." Ayden said with a foreboding tone before the two continued discussing further strategy.

Airwolf was making a Mach two plus retreat down the same path they had tracked to get to Wuhan, it took her half an hour to make it to the coast and back into open airspace.

"Sentinel, this is Beautiful Lady. Do you Copy?" Nash said, when he was finally able to use comms.

Nash's voice crackled though Le's headset.

Beautiful Lady, we copy," Le said, flicking the switch to loud speaker. "Good to finally hear from you, Wings."

Instantly the tension in the room fractured and everybody seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief even if it was only to be sort lived.

"Mission accomplished." Nash said before his inflexion changed. "But we had some air to air and a man down. We lost him"

Everyone in the comms room reeled with the news.

Shaking his head in dismay Branson asked "Who?"

"Sam." Nash answered sadly and followed quickly with a small measure of reassurance. "But we got him, we got him and we're bringing him home."

Michael had returned to the Comms room on he tail end of the sentence with his own developing news. "Yeah about that," he said with his usual flare for putting a spanner in the works.

What little spirit that was left between Nash and Saint John, was abruptly quelled with those three words and then also those that followed while Michael explained the situation and ordered Nash to keep Airwolf in the area.

"What?" Nash asked in a tone laced with incredulity.

Michael could almost feel the daggers Nash was undoubtedly wanting to shoot at him and pictured the young gun's jaw working in the same way that String's used to do when he was faced with an unpleasant complication.

At the same time the rest of the crew, including Marella rounded on Michael, all in similar fashion which caused him to internally cringe even though the man was always very good at keeping a cool and calm façade .

"You can't just expect us to hang around just burning gas up here Mike." Nash said acerbically as he continued to cast doubt over their precarious situation.

Knowing it wouldn't be well received, Michael steeled himself for what he was about say.

"We need you to make a detour. We want you to drop the Doctor and the men off on the USS Ronald Regan. They'll be transferred onto a transport and flown out. You'll fuel there and standby for further orders."

"But.. " Nash said, starting to argue.

"That's a direct order from the President. Airwolf will be safer waiting on a military platform and can be deployed at a moment's notice."

We'll be sitting on a target the size of a city block, are you nuts?"

"You'll be hiding in plain sight."

"What about the crew? You don't think they'd start asking questions?"

"Relax will you? Only those who need to know will be briefed on what they need to know." Michael said, trying to reassure the tempestuous pilot.

Nash huffed at Michael's casual tone. "Relax? Now I know you've finally flipped. Michael, there are five thousand personnel on that ship! How in realty are we going to manage that?"

"That's my job Nash and now you need to do yours. You can't pull the same BS that Saint John did last time," he said, knowing Saint John could hear him too.

The man at the EDCC shook his head but stayed silent while Michael continued. "You were officially serving your country the moment the threat was made, do you understand?." Michael said more sternly, reminding Nash that Airwolf was still technically property of the US Government even if they didn't officially know that she still existed.

Nash would have been lying if he wasn't worried that this addition to their mission would jeopardise that very secret.

He wasn't the only one. They were all operating on a knife edge.

Michael didn't want to pull the rank card, but he felt that this was the time. Like Nash, he also didn't have a choice and had to follow his own orders. There were bigger things at stake.

Nash was still silently fuming on the other end of the radio.

"Do you understand Major's?" Michael repeated, cutting through Nash's dark cloud with the use of his surname.

"Yes Sir." Nash said, reluctantly conceding through gritted teeth and then asked for The Reagan's coordinates.

As soon as Michael and Nash's radio comms finished the entire room erupted into argument.

Marella was mad at her other half – "We should have discussed this before blindsiding..."

Branson equally so - "What the hell do you think you're playing at...?"

Jo was aghast – "That's my boy ...!"

Caitlin just wanted Saint John back – " How could you...?"

Dale crossed her arms angrily. "Asshole." She said, mumbling under her breath.

Le stayed quiet but felt equally betrayed that they were being strongarmed into having to involve themselves as part of the larger military presence and the real possibility of The Lady's cover being blown straight out of the blocks.

Michael held up his arms in surrender in an attempt to calm the onslaught. "Hold on, hold on." He said to little affect.

Then he whistled.

The shrill tone caught the crew's attention and gave Michael the break he needed to get a word in.

"The decision had already been made. We have two flotillas on high alert in the South China Sea with Airwolf in the region, President Tobias felt it was best to keep the aircraft there to bolster their ordnances and to give the Lady more cover at the same time.

"What? Two fully stocked Aircraft Carriers and their how-ever many destroyers covering their arse not enough?" Branson asked, not believing the older man for a second. "Seriously Michael, what difference could one super copter make in that military soup?"

Michael gave a little shake of his head and now he had more time to think, he aversely had to agree. "It wasn't my call Richards..." he said scanning the room and giving everyone a cursory glance, "I'm just the messenger and sometimes these things happen. Airwolf's next mission was already decided upon the moment China threatened the USA.

"It's out of my hands." He said softly and almost apologetically. A shiver ran down his spine at the thoughts that continued to develop in his head.

Michael's cell alerted him. "Shit." He swore when Chapman's number came up again on his screen.

In the South China Sea, flying halfway between Luzon and the Spratly Islands and with a thin line of light just emerging on the horizon, Airwolf had just slowed enough to engage her rotors as she approached the group of ships that surrounded that mighty USS Ronald Reagan.

Le suddenly noticed a secondary electronic signal on Airwolf's position now that her stealth capabilities were shut off as she drew nearer the powerful Navy fleet.

"Hmm, what's that?" Le asked more to himself then the others in the comms room.

Even so, the rest of the group moved closer to find out for themselves what had caught Le's interest.

"What is it Honey?" Caitlin asked, placing a hand on her son's shoulder.

Le pointed to the second blip being sent - a separate frequency to that of the Lady. "I'm not sure Mom."

Le drew his brows together in concentration while his fingers flew over the keyboard to isolate the foreign marker and then it dawned on him. "I think it's a tracker."

Nash selected wheels down and was coming in on finals to land on the giant Carrier bathed in amber light off her own lighting and that of the new morning.

A green shirt stood on deck, ready to help marshal The Lady safely onto the expansive but extremely crowded micro airport.

"Beautiful Lady this is Sentinel, do you copy?" Le's voice broke Nash's concentration as his voice came through the headphone's in his helmet.

"Copy that. But I'm kind'a busy trying to land here Le," Nash said as he adjusted for a crosswind only a hundred feet off the deck.

"Wings, Airwolf has a secondary tracer onboard." Le said, informing The Lady's captain.

Michael had also been distracted by what was happening in the comms room and had left Ayden on the line calling through the speaker for him in vain.

"What?!" Michael said finally, barking into Ayden's ear.

"Miss me Michael?" Aiden asked with an annoyed quip.

Putting his cell on speaker, Michael didn't answer him. "Airwolf's been traced to the carrier Chapman!" Michael said instead n an accusatory tone, while still focusing on the monitors over Le's shoulder.

"Well that explains what I'm calling you about, the CCP has just made a threat on the entire South China Sea fleet if we don't hand over Doctor and they want Airwolf now too."

There was a pregnant pause in the group and apart from the electronic sounds coming from the comms, you could hear a pin drop.

"So, they know Airwolf is no ordinary Helicopter?" Caitlin asked in alarm.

"Yeah, I'd say the tussle in Wuhan probably caught their attention." Marella said, crossing her arms in front of her

"And I'd say that was confirmed when The Lady turned up again where she did, when she did in such a short time." Branson said, following up both the women's train of thought.

Le had one ear on his connection with Airwolf while he was waiting for Nash to make a safe touchdown and one ear on the drama unfolding within the comm's room.

He relayed the news to Nash, who swore under his breath and took Airwolf back up and away from the carrier, his concentration ruined.

"What do you mean we've been tracked? Why didn't The Lady pick anything up?" He asked.

Le was wondering that himself and had been furiously tapping away at his keyboard to why it wasn't picked up on Airwolf's sensors.

"Unless," Le said, letting the word float for a moment when an idea crossed his mind. He looked back at the data and when the signal first became apparent.

"The tracker. It's somewhere inside The Lady!" He said, confirming his suspicions. but not explaining himself.

Saint John had been listening in on the somewhat vague conversation and felt three pairs of eyes boring into him from within the passenger cabin. He casually turned and ran his keen eyes over the two Delta Force Operators and the Doctor. They all appeared mildly concerned by the aborted landing and were not patched into goings on from the radio comms.

Saint John pressed the intercom button. "Wind shear," he said as part of an explanation to Nash's distraction for the go around.

A look of understanding crossed Mei 's face but the two boys didn't seem entirely convinced. Saint John shot them a look, casually placing a finger over his mouth when the Doctor wasn't looking to keep them from asking questions while he waited for further information.

"Get that bird down on the deck, Nash, then get it checked out it and we'll go from there." Michael ordered from the RV Dolphin.

At this point Nash didn't really have a choice. He needed to rid The Lady of the offensive tracker and begrudgingly, he knew the carrier was the best place to do that. The DFO's had some handy gear that he'd could utilise to scan for the device.

Airwolf touched down easily at Nash's second attempt and a minimal crew in Hazmat suits were waiting on the deck near their landing spot on Michael's prior successful negotiations.

Then the penny dropped. The potential exposure to the pathogen meant minimal contact and a wide birth.

Quarantine was the perfect cover.

Only thing was that now Nash began to worry if they had actually been exposed or not. It was a sobering thought.

Before opening the doors, the deck crew made contact with Nash and in turn, he made sure that everyone onboard was briefed to the ship's hazard procedure.

Nick and Will made quick work of snapping on some protective gloves and putting on face masks that were left in a box on the deck in front of the helicopter. They placed Sam in a body bag also provided and carried him some distance from The Lady. They were asked to place him ontop another open bag for the crew to close up and transfer to the ships morgue.

The two Delta Force men were then escorted by some of the crew across a deserted part of an otherwise chaotic deck and to a panelled portable building that had been erected near the Island. Here they had to strip and take a shower with decontamination liquid and then dressed in their own hazmat suits before they could be transferred to an isolation ward in the infirmary.

Saint John helped Mei down to a gently rolling deck where the process was repeated.

Nash stayed with the sleek chopper and the carrier crew were under order to not approach.

The Lady was not to be left on her own without one of her crew. Even though it was against the ships protocol, it was overridden by top brass in Washington.

While they waited for Mei to finish the decontamination process, Nash and Saint John set about cleaning the worst of Sam's blood from Airwolf's alloy floor and scanned every inch of her for the device that had been tracing them but came up empty handed.

After the Doctor was moved on, it was the boys turn.

They would have to go through the decon process again after giving The Lady a deep clean and refuelling her. with all the usual on deck safety gear on. They were given a change of Navy flight suits and their old ones would be destroyed. Only then would they finally be able to bunk down for a few hours to eat and rest onboard The Lady while waiting for their next set of orders. Hard to do when, apart from their small spot, parked in between the ship's two runways, Warship 76 was fully operational and having to wear ear and eye protection while following all the other strict deck procedures, all the while the organised chaos continued around them.

It had been a long night and the sun had risen to the east. Nash and Saint John were taking advantage for their downtime, the relative safety of the Reagan's deck floating on one of the most weaponised zip codes on the planet.

Below deck in an isolation room, Mei was required to report to Project Guardian under the guise of the CIA before she was finally allowed to rest.

And her story would have bordered on the unbelievable if she wasn't part of an undercover intelligence mission. A lot can happen over so many years.

Dr Zuan's Mission became finite once she had managed to be able to stabilise the pathogen. It was ten times more virulent than Marburg Virus.

It was attached into a soluble powder and could be either applied wet or dry anywhere that rodents and the various other host animals traditionally lived. From there it could easily spread with minimal effort

That's where the Daigou shoppers came into it. It would be their job to plant the contagion throughout major cities in their hundreds of thousands.

There was a saying that always rang true: First things happen slowly and then they happen fast.

This was especially true of the Virus and once it was out of control, it could decimate a population within weeks.

The powdered VHFs21 had been stored in the vast warehouse under the rurally based Laboratory, and the entire store had now likely been compromised by fire and any that wasn't would have been completely dissolved by the suppression systems leaving the site and who knew how many square kilometres contaminated.

Of course, it wouldn't have been very clever if the CCP didn't think ahead and insist the manufacture of both a vaccine and an antidote to keep those useful safe.

It took Dr Zuan's team three years to produce and test the Vaccine, and to prove that it worked, the Chinese President forced Mei to take the first official dose. That was almost five years ago.

She didn't suffer any side effects nor did she die, millions of doses had been produced and stored in those cryo canisters at the city based Wuhan Lab ready to distribute among President and his CCP operatives with continuing supply to follow for the general population.

The antidote took a further three years to complete and three weeks before Mei's rescue, she and her colleagues had been locked in the sealed cells and purposely exposed to the pathogen.

The narcissism of their communist leader shone through once more. He wanted to see for himself how well it would work.

The Doctor who already had a level of protection, only received mild symptoms akin to the Flu.

So, in President Li Chunglung's eyes, she was fit to continue his little experiment.

But the cruellest twist was that Doctor Zuan wasn't able to access her fellow lab techs to administer the antidote as soon as possible. Instead, she was forced to wait until she could access each cell only when it was remotely unlocked for her.

It was a sick little game to test just how far into the symptoms the antidote would prove to be effective.

It turned out that once the bleeding started, it was too late, so the Chinese President ordered a little more tweaking, which is where Dr Zuan was at when the facility was raided by Operation Alpha.

Now it was time for her to wrap up her work and rethink where she would go from here. Little did she now she was so near yet so far.

Only hours later, from somewhere in the South China Sea, all hell was about to break loose when the warning went out and the entire fleet was put on red alert.


	9. 8 Would You Like Fries With That?

**8 **

**Would you like fries with that?**

"It's the only explanation," Branson said thoughtfully with a nod to Le's suggestion.

From the Comm's room on the RV Dolphin, Le had been given dispensation to use Airwolf as an amplifier for the tracker's signal to the Satellite.

It came from deep below deck not far in front of the wheelhouse of the Reagan and not too surprisingly, from where the approximate location where ship's medical centre was situated.

That could only mean one thing.

One of the four bodies that had been transferred to the Regan, was carrying the chip.

The two remaining DFO's were quickly ruled out and after running the scanner over Dr Huan's body, it was revealed that a chip was indeed imbedded in her arm.

After being questioned again by the Master at Arms, Mei explained that she didn't knowingly harbour any sort of tracking device but did say that she had a plate fitted to a broken arm when she slipped and fell in a Lab ten years previously.

Still in some shock she asked, "do you think they planted it at the same time? " and chastised herself for asking the obvious.

Separated by the plexiglass panel in the isolation room, the interrogator nodded before standing. "Looks that way, but what surprises us the most is that it's still operational after all this time," he said before turning to exit the room and leaving Mie to wonder what would become of her.

Back on the RV Dolphin the Project Guardian and Santini crew were in discussions over when Airwolf would be released and flown back to her home ship.

From high above, the Airborne Early Warning Grumman Hawkeye's had picked up activity from some of the sea based Chinese military sources.

In the pilot house of the Reagan, the Chief Officer was on the hotline with the Secretary of Defence who was giving the order to keep the visiting helicopter on the deck. When he asked why it wouldn't be a better idea to allow it to leave being that they were only a couple of hundred miles from the Philippine coastline, he was promptly advised that it was for its own safety and given no further explanation.

The man again cast his ever-keen eye over the details of the deceptively unassuming black helicopter sitting on his flight deck and was further convinced that the machine was not all it seemed. But he had his orders and didn't ask any questions for the time being.

From the Whitehouse, President Tobias had consulted with Project Guardian's front man and commissioned them to surreptitiously use any means possible to surveil the offending Chinese military bases with more detail.

The Airwolf crew had taken advantage of plug in power and had left all of The Lady's systems including scanners at the ready. Unbeknownst to anyone, Le had already manged to hack into the ship's technical systems when he was given clearance to use Airwolf to assist in finding the chip.

Any information the ship received, was automatically sent to Airwolf and her crew had been glued to the monitors and screens while the ship's on deck activity was noticeably increasing by the minute.

So too, Le was privy to that information and was just about to announce the new developments when from his base in Las Vegas, Ayden Chapman had just joined in on the conversation with those on the RV Dolphin and had caught the last part of the exchange between his operatives and the others on the vessel.

"Airwolf's not leaving anytime soon." Ayden informed with an authoritative tone, beating the tech genius to the punch.

"We've just received word that both carriers are scrambling fighters. The President has given us the go ahead to play with his new toy, so I've got my people working on NROL-44, the most recent and powerful American surveillance satellite.

"We happen to have a short window where it will be off line for maintenance in the next thirty minutes and we're gonna jump on that and do what that bear did when he went over the mountain."

Back on The Lady, Saint John and Nash were following proceedings as the minutes unfolded.

Project Guardian only had to make short work of utilising the undercover exploitation of the Governments latest spy satellite. They had to hack into the system and then program it to home into the current communications from the hotspots deep within the China complex.

Further to that, they needed more detailed photographic evidence of the bases to assess their level of engagement.

Within the next twenty minutes, the activity on the deck around Airwolf snowballed as the boys received the same information as the mighty carrier, the RV Dolphin and those others involved with Project Guardian.

Military instillations throughout Mainland China and those dotted around the South China sea were all a hive of activity rivalling the Flight deck of an aircraft carrier and fighter jets were being deployed to all bases within easy reach of the American fleet.

The runways on the Carriers were like a conveyor of comings and goings as the systematic squadrons of jets were deployed in anticipation of a battle and others came in to refuel, lock and reload from their training schedule and their crew briefed on the new mission.

In Washington, the POTUS had received a cryptic call from his Chinese adversary asking him how he liked the thought of being responsible for sinking one of his precious Aircraft Carriers.

That thought was chilling. Darian Tobias knew that China had been developing and bragging about the capabilities of their D21 and D26 ballistic anti-ship missiles, but as yet there had been no proof that they could carry out their alleged impressive credentials.

President Tobias could often be brash in his affectation and it took everything he had to refrain from using the colourful words he wanted to use to describe the man on the other side of the call as to not antagonise him any further and it would be preferable if China's missiles didn't use the biggest vessels in Americas Naval fleet as target practice.

He was also reminded that there was just over an hour left for him to hand over the Doctor and the Helicopter if he was to call off his dogs.

That Li Chunglung had taking it upon himself to threaten the POTUS meant that the Dictator somehow knew that the Wuhan mission was off the books with the Department of Defence.

Clearly the Chinese dictator was playing the same game, not that the man ever followed any rules in the first place.

It was only by a stroke of luck that China's threat could be veiled as retaliation for the even tougher trade sanctions imposed on them by The President's America First policy.

That didn't change the fact that it still put the DOD up to their neck in it, it was just that they didn't know the real reason. President Tobias was up against the ropes and if any of those missiles hit United States interests, not only would he be ultimately investigated, but it would likely lead to impeachment and or gaol time if Operation Alpha was ever uncovered.

It wasn't just his ass on the line. It could also be the start of something far bigger. Something that the opposing political party had always expected he would be the instigator of. Something he always insisted would never happen on his watch.

Another endless war.

With everyone except the Airwolf crew watching the wide screen in the Comms room on the RV Dolphin, the emergency conference ended with the President's last words, "Ok, Let's get the job done." He said before the link was severed and the screen went to static before it turned blue.

Michael turned to scan the room and noted that the others were all deep in thought. It appeared that this time they may just have bitten off far more than they could chew, but they all agreed that there was no choice in the matter.

"Well?" he asked the others, gaining their attention. "You heard the man! Let's get the job done!"

With almost an hour to go before the deadline, they had to keep the wool over the eyes of both DOD and China if they were going to pull this off and as of right then they were going to start with Nash using his assigned flight suit as a disguise and the chaos on the Reagan as a cover to sneak below deck .

Le had sent through a mud map through with the coordinates of the Medical Centre. Nash crossed the flight deck via a route that gave him the cover he needed to hide in plain sight and Le helped guide the pilot through any possible tricky spots below deck.

Meanwhile, Saint John was checking systems and getting Airwolf ready to fly.

Nash had made it two decks down, keeping his gaze averted from making eye contact with the busy crew, he casually nodded his greetings to the occasional team member if he couldn't avoid it.

With everyone focused on a real emergency situation, he remained fairly unrestricted and briefly made a stop at the Ship's Laundry. Peeking in, he found it almost deserted and as luck would have it he spotted some fatigues and a blue jersey for Dr Zuan to wear up on the flight deck.

He stuffed the items into a laundry bag and further made his way towards the ship's hospital, not too far down down the maze of corridor's.

Le helped guide him past the quieter section housing the medical wing, and luckily the quarantine station was set away from the hospital itself and he didn't have to get past any medical staff.

With Le guiding him to the Doctor's room, Le remotely unlocked he door and Nash stepped inside.

Startling from her prone position on a narrow cot, Mei jumped to her feet and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"We're busting you out. Here." Nash said, digging the cloths out of the laundry bag and throwing them at Mei's chest, "put those on, leave the blue shirt till we get up to the flight deck.

Nash turned around and Mei did as she was told, stuffing the shirt into one of the deep pockets of her fatigues.

Running his eye over the tiny woman, he frowned at the sloppy look of the uniform that was at least a few sizes too big. Dr Zuan had to roll the hem up on the pant legs and shirt sleeves, "It'll have to do," he said with a sigh handing her a matching peaked hat.

"Stay on my six and keep your head down" he ordered before he stuck his head out from the room to check if the coast was clear and they headed back the way he'd come.

"Hey!" a voice called from behind them only a minute later. "Are you meant to be down here?"

Nash pushed the Doctor's small frame behind him to conceal her as he turned to face the man walking down the corridor towards them. He stayed quiet, allowing the low-ranking Seaman to approach and had to give it to the kid - for he wouldn't have been twenty if he was a day older - he had guts to call out what he would have assumed to be a Higher ranking Airman who likely should have been airside in the situation the carrier was currently under.

The nosy young serviceman tried to peer around Nash to see who he was hiding. His eyebrows drew together and he grinned sheepishly, "Oh man, you flyboy's have all the luck." He said trying to appear cool but was clearly blushing at what he thought he was witnessing.

"Yeah," Nash nodded agreeing with a smile, trying to put the guy - who was clearly still wet behind the ears - at ease "Can I give you a tip?" he said slinging an arm around the young man's shoulders and walking him away from Dr Zuan.

"Yes sir."

"What's your name Seaman?" Nash asked not unkindly, further drawing the hapless youngster into his trap.

"Eugene Simmons. Sir." he answered in a southern accent.

But that's all that Nash let him say. Quick as a whip Nash had the Seaman in a choke hold and he was knocked out cold in no time.

Gently, he placed him on the floor and hurried Dr Zuan along letting her know the at he'd come too fairly quickly and headed back through the intricate maze of corridors and stairways until they came to one of the lesser used exits to the flight deck. Reminding Dr Zuan to add the blue shirt before helping her with the compulsory head gear stored at the exit point, they easily made it back to The Lady.

Unplugging her from the ship's power grid, Nash noted that Saint John had already initiated start sequence and let Le know they were all on board before the other two had even strapped themselves in.

Airwolf's blades began to rotate catching they eye of a number of the colourful crewmen on the flight deck, who were forced to notify and change their procedure.

At the exact same moment on the bridge, the Chief Officer had just put down the receiver of the EC Service Telephone after getting news that one of the quarantine rooms was discovered unoccupied and a crew member had been knocked out. Likewise, his Navigator brought his attention to the movement of the blades on the sleek black Helo.

"Ah Shit." He said through clenched teeth systematically ordering the flight deck to make adjustments to their course of action. He followed by engaging the ships weapons to lock onto the machine, then he radioed the offending Chopper and asked Nash what the hell he thought he was playing at.

"Let's just say that something came up," Nash said, with The Lady hitting revs before lifting off.

"You can't go, I have orders to keep you from leaving. Don't make me knock you out of the sky." The captain said fully prepared to follow through with his threat as the ships guns put The Lady in their crosshairs.

"They've got a lock on us. " Saint John said, confirming what the Chief was saying while Airwolf's sensors identified the two deck mounted 20mm Gatling guns following her movements.

Airwolf rose ominously and made her way to the bridge so that Nash could see a clear path right to the Captain, The Lady's howl could be heard through the expanse of glass surrounding the wheelhouse.

Chief Officer Goldstein's gut was right, there was definitely more to this helo than met the eye, seeing it up close and personal.

"We've got our orders too Sir," Nash said politely and ordered Saint John to deploy their weapons. "So, you might want to reconsider that since we're trying to save your ass right now," Nash said with Airwolf rolling out her arsenal.

The captain's eyes grew wide and he swallowed heavily, knowing he was now looking straight down the barrel of an extraordinary weapon.

"Standdown." He ordered his gunners before talking to Nash. "I hope you know what you're doing up there."

Nash smirked, "I'll call you if I need you," he said before tipping Airwolf forward and flying her over the top of the Pilot House, leaving the entire crew to follow The Lady's path out to sea, wondering what the hell they'd just seen after Nash called for Turbo's.

Saint John punched in 9.904395 115.529750, the coordinates to a small atoll in the middle of the Spratly Archipelago only about a hundred miles southwest of the mighty carrier and her posse.

"Where are we going?" Dr Zuan finally asked now that they were flying straight and level

Streaking over the ocean towards the next part of their mission, Nash answered, "We're gonna save the World," he said only half joking. The doctor looked at him questioningly, clearly wanting more information.

Saint John took the honors. "What we're supposed to do, is hand you and this helicopter over to the CCP."

"What?" Mei asked in horror. "We're going back there? Are you crazy? You know It'll be a death sentence." She said her voice pitching, she looked panicked and like she was trying to find a way to leave The Lady's cabin. "Or worse! And not just for me, but for all of us!"

The undercover agent had been through the wringer already, so her emotions had gotten the best of her and she couldn't control her eyes from tearing up. She couldn't go back to that and she didn't want to die under the CCP after living under them for so long. Not after being rescued and now for it all to be undone.

"Now hold your horses Doc," Saint John said in an attempt to calm her. "Before you go thinking it would be better throwing yourself out of a perfectly good helo, 'supposed to' are the operative words here. There's no way we're actually going to go through with that, but we're going to let them think we are."

Mei stared at him blankly, "Oookay? So, what are you going to do?" She asked only feeling marginally relieved.

"Well." Saint John thought for a moment, "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. It all depends what we find." He said with a carefree smile.

"If that's supposed to make me feel more at ease, you're doing a lousy job." Mei said with a scowl before staring out the window to ponder her fate some more.

Nash smirked. "Well, that's kind'a how we roll," he said.

As Airwolf closed the miles between her and one of the many controversial Chinese military bases, Nash slowed and called for Saint John to Engage rotor's as they coasted through three hundred knots and the atoll came into view.

It wasn't until that moment that the RV Dolphin picked up the signal on the tracking chip in Dr Huan's arm.

Those who planted it had questioned where their transaction had disappeared to when the tracking signal disappeared not long after leaving the Carrier. The Carrier who's location was so generously exposed by their technology not more than half a day previously.

As a further assurance for American compliance, China sent their substantial People's Liberation Army Airforce into the air earlier than the deadline and the opposing squadrons would be dancing around each other with a face off in no time.

Much to their delight and intrigue, the Chinese also got a read from the chip, confirming that it wasn't a glitch in the system when they lost the signal from Wuhan overnight. Relaying the news to their leader who had sent his Vice President to oversee the arrival and acquisition of their new game changing tool, they were all proverbially rubbing their hands together in anticipation.

Coming into view at fifteen miles, Airwolf's various sensors were put to work to give the boys a better idea on what they were going to contend with.

The military base was built along the rim of an ancient volcano, the expanse of concrete and gravel was held in place by a modular seawall that went on for miles.

There was three-mile long runway that could take any sized aircraft and a Boeing 737-800 Airliner was currently parked on the apron.

"Looks like we've got a VIP welcoming committee," Saint John called out before passing on the intel.

The American made passenger liner was surrounded by a number of Chinese military jets and other protection vehicles and was overseen by an Air Traffic Control Tower.

Further impressive infrastructure including fuel tanks, acres of accommodation, a sports field and a protected inner harbour with a dozen or so ships either moored or tied alongside a number of piers as they offloaded goods and more building material.

But by far the most interesting feature was what looked suspiciously like a multi-use launching site on its own island, built on a natural high point of the crater rim and separated by a dredged shipping lane on either side

"And looks like we're also getting the red-carpet treatment and an escort," Saint John said as a pair of J – 11's scooted down the runway to join the Airwolf team in the air.

On the RV Dolphin, Le and the others had been watching The Lady's progress with trepidation, both through her onboard scanners and the images that were sent from the helicopter's onboard cameras from the time the crew left the Carrier Strike Group far behind.

Michael's cell buzzed, startling most of the group in the Comms room.

"Michael," he answered .

After a series of Uhuh's yep's and nup's, he stopped the call, took a long breath through his nose and with a clenched jaw, he uttered, "Bastards!" under his breath.

"They've sent their PLAAF towards the Strike Group." Michael said, running his hand over his moustache, while explaining the latest unfolding crisis.

Le received the latest satellite radar images that were sent though from Project Guardian of the South China Sea, where almost a hundred assorted military aircraft had been deployed from the numerous locations and were closing in on the American Naval fleet.

All eyes were on the big screen watching the multitude of blips heading toward the flotilla from almost every direction.

Dale was the only member of the group that had been out of the room. She felt a bit useless if she were being honest with herself. Taking a break from the pressure, she was making the latest batch of strong coffee and a good cup of tea for Uncle Bran. She had been well schooled by Wings in the art of playing Barista and was completely lost in his was the rookie of the group and with her lover in the thick of things it was hard to keep her head in the game, so she took it upon herself to at least look after the rest of the crew to keep herself busy and feeling more useful.

She couldn't wait to have more experience with Airwolf, and go on missions with her beau, but that was a while off and right now all she could do was pray he'd come back to her.

She'd been very quiet throughout the last day or so because she knew almost everything about this mission, courtesy of the blow by blow observation of the unfolding events. She, like the others was exhausted and often her focus waned and she ceased to see the forest for the trees.

Stepping away from the intense Comms room was just what she needed and Dale walked back into the room carrying the tray of caffeine concentrate just as everyone was intensely scrutinising the big screen in silence.

"Did I miss something?" she asked, placing the beverages in front of their respective consumers. She was distracted by the chaos the graphics made on the screen and it didn't look promising.

Turning her full attention to the display before them and with fresh eyes she noticed a secondary blip coming from one of the larger boats.

'What's that Le?" she asked the man in front of the computer console, while pointing to the offending marker.

Everyone was quick to focus on the dot. Le's fingers flew over the computer keys as he tried to enhance the information.

Branson narrowed his eyes and even in his utterly depleted state, he couldn't help but make a correlation. "Another tacking device?" he asked without another thought.


End file.
